The Complicated Lives of Shikamaru and Temari Nara
by littledarkangelhippie
Summary: He was a lazy, good for nothing, smartass that pissed her off day by day just by being alive. She was a scary, bossy, troublesome woman who he wished would just get the hell out of his mind. But there was no way they were leaving each other, not when they were this in love. Short stories based off of inspirational songs
1. So Contagious

**A.N.: ****I have a list of songs I heard and had inspired me, labeled under "Inspirational". And all of them inspired me for my favorite couple in the "Anime World": Shikamaru Nara and Temari. I'm using each song, in order, to make you these short little one shots. Some of them are of random things, and others are connected. Since they live so far away from each other, there will be a little bit of longing between them. Some chapters will have the lyrics inside, some won't. For example, this one right here **_**doesn't **_**have them. But I'll always state the title of the song and the artist/band who sings it. I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own "Naruto" or any of the characters.**

**So Contagious**

"What the hell is wrong with me?"

He lied there on his roof, beneath the shade, staring up at the clouds that traveled slowly along the expanse of a blue, blue sky, a color that matched the irises of a girl he _should've _been thinking about… Instead, his eye was caught by a stray leaf, fluttering in the gentle breeze, landing briefly on the tip of his nose, as if placing a light kiss there, before it went on its aimless journey toward nowhere in particular. Without thinking, he raised his hand to catch it, but stopped himself and watched it vanish with the wind. _Green…wind…kiss… _"Ah, shit…" He covered his face with the same hand that had tried to grab the leaf. A_ leaf _for crying out loud! That's it, he was losing his mind. Not that he had been completely normal in the first place, but this was downright pitiful. He tried to relax himself into a nap, trying to keep his brain from wandering off into some forbidden territory. But wander it did and Shikamaru was left glaring at the roof of his shade as teal eyes haunted him. It was moments later that he became fed up with it and headed off to some other place. He didn't understand this feeling, especially when it was directed at _her. _He could understand Ino, despite the fact that even now he saw her as a sister and that only. Actually, he could understand _anybody _other than that bat-shit crazy… He had to refrain from knocking his head against the closest wall.

He didn't know what the hell his problem was. It's not like she ever told him she felt anything for him. Ah, but there were the key words right there: She never _told him. _Doesn't mean she never _implied _it. And she certainly did. Unless he was reading it all wrong… Now he felt like scoffing. Shikamaru Nara was never wrong, and if he was, it was never about _this sort of stuff. _…Not that he'd ever been bothered by these things in the first place… He sighed as he arrived at the library, not feeling proud of himself as he entered the building. He was rarely ever in the library, and so when the musky, thick scent of old and new books alike attacked him, he just barely stifled his coughs. He swallowed back his reaction. It wasn't a bad smell, just different. Not what he was used to. And he wouldn't have to get used to it if it weren't for that stupid, evil, lunatic of a… He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from punching something. "Ah, hell, she's even made me violent," he grumbled to himself.

"Who has?" a familiar voice asked behind him. He turned to look at the pink-haired kunoichi. Her light green eyes took him in, registered the look on his face and turned from friendly curiosity to gentle worry. She held four thick books to her chest, all about medical things he didn't really care about, but she shifted them to one arm and reached the other out to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. It was meant to comfort him, but all it did was make him feel all the more stupid. Shikamaru Nara never needed to be comforted, and yet here he was, being comforted. But he couldn't say he minded. Sakura was an old friend, and her eyes spoke only of good intentions and good will. There wasn't a better person in the world to turn to. Yet he couldn't bring himself to. Not yet. "Shikamaru…?" she asked, trailing off. He knew what she was waiting for. But _not yet. _He knew when he absolutely couldn't do something on his own and when he needed help and that was _not now. _

"It's alright," he muttered, turning away from her kind eyes to let his own scan the different sections of the library. "Everything's fine." He glanced back to see her nod, a small smile on her face to show she understood. He returned the smile. He knew he could count on her for this. If it had been Naruto or Ino or even Choji, they would've continuously bothered him to stab his ego in the back and admit his feelings. There was no chance in hell he was doing that… He watched Sakura walk off to check out the books, waving at him before leaving to go train.

He was lost for a bit because he refused to ask the librarian for any help. When he found the section he wanted, he spent a long time finding some that didn't make him want to slap the closest man he could find (he didn't hit girls, _ever_) and took the time to read the summaries of each and every book that did interest him enough, and then took those few books and set them on a table at the furthest corner of the library, and then went off to search for informational books on…her home…and sat down when he figured he had a respectable collection of knowledge and opinions set before him before he found a pen and paper to jot down notes and things he found interesting. First, he started with the historical books and scribbled down anything that piqued his interest. Next, the…romance crap he'd picked up. He merely rifled through these, his eyes scanning quickly before writing stuff down. And last, he was left with one single book that made him question all logic, which was strange. It was merely a book on the female mind, but he still experienced a moment of trepidation. Alright, so he wouldn't be the first to admit that woman were a complete puzzle that no one in the world who was male could ever _hope _to solve, but maybe he was one of the few who really, _truly_, wanted to.

Her mind was not like any other female's, so when he finished the book—actually reading it from start to finish like he should've with the other books—he found he had no more of an idea on how to figure her out than he did just two hours earlier. He finally buried his face in his arms, feeling a sort of desperation. He didn't want this, didn't deserve it, and he wished it gone. But it was there when he opened his eyes, there when he closed them, there in his dreams and in his reality. There was no escape and the longer he avoided it, the more it would bother him. Sure, he was lazy, but he usually didn't put things off _too _long. And this had drawn out longer than he was comfortable with. Damn, this wouldn't even be a problem if she hadn't done what she had. He closed his eyes, trying not to remember the look in her eyes, the smirk on her face. Tried not to remember the feeling of her lips, soft and warm against his own… He jumped out of his seat, only to be slammed back to reality. And groaned silently as he realized the inevitable.

He needed Sakura's help.

Things were a little _too _calm. Temari wasn't sure what to make of it.

Kankuro sat in the middle of the living room, tweaking and tinkering with his puppets, adding new mechanisms and humming silently to himself a cheerful tune that almost surprised her. And Gaara, her baby brother, stoic and serious and always ready for anything, was lazily draped along their couch, staring up at the ceiling, lost in a daydream. A _daydream. _Gaara never let his mind stray, never let himself relax. Yet here he was, calm as only he could be and comfortable in his skin like no one had a right to. She stood at the doorway, unsure on how to process this. Kankuro glanced up at her, observed her a moment before he asked if she needed something. She blinked at him, only reacting when Gaara turned his head and trained his aquamarine eyes on her, innocently curious.

_Innocent, _she scoffed in her mind. _Where's the Gaara I used to know? _But she didn't dwell on the thought. She liked this Gaara infinitely better than the one from before. In fact, she even walked back into the kitchen—leaving her two brothers baffled—and literally made him a sandwich…_not making one for Kankuro because he's a sexist jerk who told me I only belong in the kitchen like all other woman! _She slammed her fist into the wall in her annoyance, which caused Kankuro to turn his back to the kitchen entrance, suddenly feeling like he was going to get hurt soon. There was a long silence in which Gaara propped himself up on his elbows to look over the side of the couch at the kitchen's entrance, where Temari was, hidden behind the wall. He and Kankuro exchanged looks, noting that his older brother looked horrified, which mildly amused him because he used to be the cause of that expression and now it was his older sister, who didn't seem the least bit threatening to him. She seemed harmless and kind, but he supposed the years he spent _not _getting to know them might've left him with very few things to go on in terms of…well anything.

So, with a newfound goal to get on _both _their good sides, he sat up properly on the couch and watched Kankuro fiddle with his puppets, and gently told him whenever he made a mistake, which, in turn, made Kankuro smile, thinking maybe, _finally, _he and Gaara could really bond… Until Temari came in, smiling with a brightness that terrified Kankuro and comforted Gaara, holding a plate of food. Kankuro wondered if they'd make it out alive of this, unconsciously moving toward his little brother in case he should throw himself in front of him—after all, Gaara had never really seen Temari's rage before—and Gaara was a little pleased, thinking maybe he didn't have to work as hard with Temari…and wondering why Kankuro was moving closer to him. "Here you go, Gaara! I made you a—hey!" she was cut off by Kankuro tackling Temari down. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, holding the plate away carefully and shoving his face away. "This is for Gaara _only, _Kankuro!"

"Now, Gaara! Make a run for it while you still can! I'll hold her down!" Kankuro yelled at his thoroughly confused baby brother, sitting there and doing nothing, pale eyes wide and puzzled. "Hey, don't pull my hair!" he shouted in her face.

"Don't _yell _at your older sister!" she hissed, trying to squirm away while pulling him away by his messy brown hair.

Now Gaara was faced with a moment of torn uncertainty. He wanted to pull them away from each other because he worried they'd hurt each other, wanted to eat that sandwich on the plate Temari held—_his _sandwich, from what she said—away from Kankuro, wanted to do as Kankuro said and escape to his room, wanted to help Temari away from his big brother, but, mostly, he wanted to laugh. Which was strange for him, but he hadn't been this amused since he had his epiphany to be a good person. Well, years of controlling his emotions had granted him a mastery over his expressions, so he had no problem hiding it. He'd admit, though, he enjoyed being fought over. It was as his two older siblings fought that he noticed the bird at the windowsill, and recognized it to being a messenger bird. He stood—neither sibling noticing—and gently pet the bird as he took the message. "Temari," he said, and the bickering stopped instantly. He looked back and held the scroll out to her. "It's for you."

Kankuro let Temari go as she stood up, walking over to the redhead and taking the scroll from his hand and placing the plate there instead. She smiled when he immediately started to eat it and then went off to read the scroll, wandering to the couch and sitting down, barely hearing Kankuro obsess over Gaara, wondering aloud if it was poisoned, which annoyed her. She threw a pillow at him that Gaara sidestepped easily, eating his sandwich silently. Looking down at the scroll, she was surprised to find it was from the Leaf Village. A blush immediately crossed her face. No, it couldn't be from… She glanced up and bit back a grin when she saw the redhead's hand in Kankuro's face. She stood and stole away to her bedroom.

"I don't care _what _she put in it, it's _my _sandwich," Gaara said.

"B-but, Gaara, you don't know her as well as I do…" Kankuro argued weakly. He whispered, "She's such a bitch when she wants to be."

"I heard that!" she called back, slamming her door to add to the affect. There was a brief silence from the living room, and then she heard the unmistakable voice of her youngest brother.

"I'm not going to defend you when she kills you," he said around bites of his sandwich.

"B…but Gaara…I thought we were friends," Kankuro whined. She tuned them out as she sat down on her bed. Her hands trembled. Who could it be from? It couldn't be from…couldn't be…

"Mmph…" she whined, muffled from her pillow. Whatever. There's no rational way it could be from…him…and even if it was, it was no doubt something about some mission they needed help with… But, if it were about that, why didn't they send this to the Jounin? She shook her head quickly and, with more courage than she actually had, unrolled the scroll. The calligraphy was beautiful, too beautiful to be from him, but the words on the scroll made her breath catch. Perhaps he'd gotten someone else to write this for him, but it was still from him, still his words, she knew, because no one could say so many irritating things and manage to put it all together to still please her. She gave a smile, relieved. She didn't wonder how he did it, only felt happy that he did. She didn't waste any time in throwing open her closet and looking for the prettiest things she had and stuffing them into her bag. She did, however, take the time to sit down, calm her nerves, and write a response on her own scroll, intending to keep the one he'd made as a keepsake. When she was sure everything was ready, she left her room, leaving her bag there, and walked back to the living room where she found Gaara drinking water and Kankuro shuffling cards in front of him. They sat facing each other on the floor, the coffee table between them. It was obvious they were going to play a game of cards. It was strange how quickly they'd gotten over their one-sided bickering.

She carefully rolled up the scroll and tucked it back into the pouch strapped to the dutifully waiting bird. Someone had placed a tiny bowl of water in front of it, and it showered and drank eagerly. She smiled and pet its coffee brown feathers lightly, before sliding the message in place and clasping it shut, forming a seal and lifting the bird. It flew quickly, already disappearing to the horizon, back to its home. When she turned back around, both her brothers were staring at her, blank-faced. Kankuro continued to shuffle the cards while Gaara sipped from his glass, both observing her silently. "Ha…ha…" she laughed nervously, scratching the back of her head. The weight of their stares made her realize a minor complication. Before, when Gaara couldn't give a rat's ass about them, and Kankuro had been too busy loathing Gaara, and Temari stressed over bringing some peace, she never had to worry about her two brothers being protective. They never cared where she went and never asked her anything. They never interrogated her and never bothered her, too busy hating each other. But, now, now that Gaara _did _care, and Kankuro _didn't _loathe him, and she _didn't _have to stress over bringing any peace, she _did _have to worry about her two brothers being protective. And their eyes screamed suspicion.

As Temari slowly walked toward her room, their eyes followed her minutely, eyes narrowing with every step she took. It was Gaara's voice that stopped her. "Where are you going, Temari? Why don't you join us in our game?" His voice was friendly, but there was an underlying tone, an edge that was almost like the voice he used before, only much, _much _lighter. This voice did not promise pain for _her. _She shivered for the person it _did. _She glanced back and smiled. But it was moot when their gazes were dark in their intensity. Kankuro stopped shuffling his cards and Gaara lowered his glass. Minutes passed, long and painfully slow, before she took off to her room. There was rustles of cards being dropped and the padding of bare feet behind her, causing her to panic, slamming the door and sighing in relief as she locked it, right before they could reach her.

After a few moments, she kneeled and looked under the gap of the door, shrieking and jumping back when she was met with one aquamarine eye and one dark brown one. "Holy—what the hell is wrong with you?" she exclaimed through the door.

There was a short pause, and then Kankuro saying, in an obnoxiously sarcastic tone, "What's wrong with _you_? We only want you to play a game with us." There was some mumbling from Gaara and then Kankuro asked, "What did the message say? And what did you send back?" She blushed, her back against the wall—literally—as she thought about it. She sighed, realizing there was no way she was leaving this house without giving some answers.

"The… The village sent for me…to investigate something," she replied, voice, thankfully, steady.

"To investigate _what_?" Kankuro asked.

"Why only you?" Gaara mused, seeming to be asking himself.

"Something! It's classified! And they asked for me…because…" She thought things through deeply. She was a long-distance fighter, but so were Gaara and Kankuro. She wasn't a Leaf Shinobi, so she wouldn't seem quite as suspicious…but neither were Gaara and Kankuro. She was great at spying…but so were Gaara and Kankuro… What the _fuck_ did she have that they didn't? And then it came to her, a splendid, sparkling fact that shimmered before her very eyes. _Neither _of the two could argue it. "Because I'm a woman."

The silence pleased her. It was heavy and stretched long enough that she knew they had no argument, until she heard Gaara's voice, dark, whispering near where he figured her ear would be—he was spot-on as always—"There is no way you are going to the Leaf Village for this mission." And the sentence rang with finality.

"What? And why not?" she demanded.

"You mean you don't _know_?" Kankuro growled. She supposed her lack of response was response enough for them.

"You're a _woman,_" Gaara said.

"Obviously…" she murmured uncertainly.

"More developed…physically than the other kunoichi in the Leaf Village," he went on, Kankuro strangely silent.

"Uh-huh…" she trailed off; remembering the other girls and realizing it was true.

"And that's the _only _reason they need you." His voice held a certain edge to it, willing her to understand.

"That's right," she confirmed. She felt she was digging herself deeper and deeper into a hole, knowing that, at some point, they'd figure it out. She hadn't been expecting them to be this…protective. If she had, she wouldn't have started this…

"It does not take a genius to know _why _they—" Gaara's low voice was cut off as her door suddenly flung open, and he and Kankuro, who sat cross-legged on the floor, were left to stare up at her, her dark green eyes angry and filled with fire. Gaara shrunk back instantly, and realized why it was that Kankuro was so scared of their sister. Had he seen this…this horrifyingly pissed off side of Temari, he, too, would've done as Kankuro had. He praised Kankuro in his mind for having been brave before and try to protect him. Her teeth were grit together, a blush across her face, and her eyes dangerously dark. It put his own death-glare to shame.

"That. Is. Not. Why. They. Want. Me." Temari spoke through her teeth, and with each word, her two brothers moved closer and closer together, seeking each other_. So, they must've formed a buddy-system already, _she thought in amusement. She turned on her heel and grabbed all her things, storming out toward the front door. When the front door slammed shut, the two brothers stared at each other for a moment, before scrambling to their rooms to pack their things.

"There is _no way _she's going to the Leaf all by herself," Kankuro muttered to Gaara as they ran toward the entrance of the Sand Village. "She's only sixteen!" He panicked a moment, but was calmed by Gaara.

"We'll protect her." As they took to the sandy desert surrounding the Sand Village, he murmured, "Whether she likes it or not." Kankuro nodded in assent. "Whatever the intentions are of the Leaf's, we'll be right there with her."

**A.N.: ****I hadn't actually intended to add this part on, about the Sand Siblings, but hey, I thought you'd like a little insight on their everyday lives. It occurred to me that maybe Gaara, after he turned good, started caring about his two siblings. And, since he didn't hate them anymore, his…brotherly instincts were kicking in. As were Kankuro's. And, since they'd had no need to use it before, they were more than eager to use it **_**now. **_**In **_**Naruto, **_**my favorite characters were the Sand Siblings, and the interest never really died. So I was more than happy to add them in.**

**Song: So Contagious**

**Artist: Acceptance**

**I thought this would fit them, considering how I always figured their love to be very…sweet. The song really only applies to Shikamaru, seeing as how this chapter was only gonna be about him and how he felt, but that would've been boring and short. **


	2. Accidentally in Love

**A.N.:**** Okay, finally I was able to get to this. Took me a bit. But that won't be the case for the next chapter. Let me say that the song that inspired this chapter is not on my list. I had been looking at videos about them and stumbled upon one with this song and **_**this**_** happened. I liked it and I hope you do, too.**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Naruto or any characters.**

**Accidentally in Love**

"What the _fuck _is wrong with you two?"

Two heads were bowed before a very angry blonde, whose fury boiled beneath the surface of her _just barely _contained temper. All hell would be let loose, and that was the promise conveyed by her cloudy teal eyes. The same fire burned in those eyes again, causing the same red head to shrink back into his older brother. _Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, _he thought, listening to his big brother try to work them out of this. It was useless, but he at least had to try.

"Ah, Temari…sis…I can explain," Kankuro said nervously. "We were just trying to—"

"Shut up!" she snapped. They both winced and stared up at her with wide eyes, looking a lot like wounded puppy dogs. Behind her stood a certain lazy genius, rubbing at the back of his head and staring at the wall, trying to hide his own fear. She was, indeed, a very scary woman. _Scarier than my mom, _he thought with a nod. Sneaking a glance at her two younger brothers, he felt a pang of guilt and sympathy for them. The guilt from being the cause—even if it wasn't completely him—and the sympathy for…well, that was obvious… He could _feel _the anger rolling off of her, and he fought the urge to flee the scene as quickly as possible. He found small comfort in the fact that Sakura was there as well. She didn't seem affected by Temari. In fact, she looked like she _approved. _All three males regarded her in disbelief as the pink-haired kunoichi nodded to every accusation spat at them by the blonde.

_There's no way we're coming out of this alive, _Kankuro thought, wrapping an arm around his baby brother and silently saying his prayers, mentally writing his will. _Give my puppets to…wait, Gaara's gonna die, too… _

"Ah…Temari…san…" Shikamaru began, trying to appeal to her by being as formal as possible, while his fear made him hesitant. Something about that endeared her, he could see that, because when she turned on him, her eyes were significantly kinder, melting away whatever fire she'd had and replacing it with a gentle smolder, more like lava than fire. "I really think you should hear them out." It was quiet a moment, where her two brothers hoped she took his words into consideration, Sakura wondered at Shikamaru's tender tone and then smiling at his affection for the Sand Kunoichi, Shikamaru tried to hold Temari's wide eyes, and Temari silently pondered what he said.

She flopped down to sit on the couch in the apartment she was going to stay in while she visited the Leaf they now were gathered in, patting the spot beside her for Shikamaru. He sighed, rubbing the back of his head before walking over and joining her. She crossed her legs and placed her two hands on her knees, much like she did that one time at the hospital a while ago. "Well?" she prompted her younger brothers.

"Well, we were worried about you," Kankuro began. "You're only sixteen, Temari!" This horrified expression overtook his features, intensified by the paint on his face. He was hyperventilating. "What if… What if… Oh, dear, sweet…gah… What if you… Oh, no," he gasped, clutching at his chest as he looked around wildly at the room. "I-I can't… I can't breathe!" He grabbed Gaara by the brown strap that would hold the gourd he'd left by the door along with Kankuro's puppets, shaking him once—and surprisingly the red head allowed him, proving his impressive newfound self-control. "Gaara!" he yelled dramatically, "I can't breathe, Gaara! What if she…oh, Gaara, what if she—"

"Would you _shut up_?" Temari cut in, closing her eyes irritably as one perfect blonde eyebrow twitched.

"We were merely questioning the Leaf's motives for using a _sixteen year old girl, _and why they specifically _only _wanted _you,_" Gaara clarified, patting Kankuro's cat-eared hoodie. "We just don't want you to get hurt." The way her two younger brothers held each other, with Gaara looking at her with that stern look on his face and Kankuro hiding his face in Gaara's shoulder as if grieving something, reminded Temari of two heartbroken parents troubled by a rebellious daughter who'd turned up pregnant, forcing her to cover her face with one slender hand. Shikamaru noticed that her lips twitched behind her hand, puzzling him.

"We were just…" Kankuro sniffled, much to Temari's surprise. "We were just _so _scared!"

"What are they talking about?" Sakura asked, looking at Kankuro in worry. Kankuro turned to look at her with wide watery brown eyes.

"Well now," Temari said in a reassuring tone, waving her hands and smiling nervously. "I think we need to clear some things up." She uncrossed her legs and leaned back to get comfortable. "I wasn't _really _called for a mission," Temari confessed.

"What?" Kankuro exclaimed and his sad-puppy-eyes suddenly wiped from his face, replaced by a look of disbelief and exasperation. Gaara merely leveled his steady gaze on Temari. They revealed nothing but unmistakable relief. "You _lied _to us!" Kankuro pointed at her face, looking far too innocent to actually be innocent. Her teal eyes were too wide and her face expressed nothing but childish confusion. Shikamaru gave a breathless chuckle, shaking his head.

"Ah, let me explain," Sakura offered, walking around to stand before the two brothers. "You see, I sent a message to Temari-san," Sakura said, giving an airy laugh. "It was written by Shikamaru requesting that she come to the Leaf Village."

"And…that's it?" Kankuro asked. "That's _all?_"

"Pretty much," Temari said with a flippant shrug of her shoulders, hoping that was the end of it. But the tense silence afterward told here there was no chance that would be simply _the end of it. _

"And why _exactly _does Shikamaru want you here?" Gaara demanded, eyes deadpanning on Temari, and then Shikamaru, whose brown eyes widened in surprise. Kankuro's head turned slowly to stare at the boy, eyes every bit as suspicious as his baby brother's.

Temari slumped forward, giving a defeated sigh as Shikamaru gave a nervous chuckle.

0…o~*~o…0

It was planned out as skillfully as any strategic tactic used on missions. Hinata and Neji had been filled in on the whole thing by Sakura, which in turn caused Hinata to tell Shino and Neji to tell Tenten, leaving out their meddlesome teammates. They were told to never, _ever, _under any circumstances tell the following people and for the following reasons: Ino Yamanaka, who could never keep her mouth shut and was deemed a Gossip Queen; Choji Akimichi, who, despite being Shikamaru's best friend, would interfere even if he had good intentions; Kiba Inuzuka, who was a loud and nosy; Rock Lee, who, even with a heart of gold, also had a big mouth and was sworn to never keep a secret; Naruto Uzumaki, for reasons that were blatantly obvious.

They gathered together at the training grounds, sans Temari who had to stay at the apartment and keep her brothers entertained. Shikamaru stood off to the side, blushing with an annoyed look on his face.

"Come on, Shikamaru! We can't do this without you," Sakura persisted.

He gave a sigh and joined the group. Tenten was in charge of keeping Rock Lee busy with training, and if she got worn out, Hinata volunteered to treat he, Choji, and Naruto to meals, seeing as how rich her family was, it wasn't an issue to her. Shino and Neji decided to busy both Naruto and Kiba with idiotic means. Sakura assured she'd keep Ino busy as well. While all five promised to keep all of the other five meddlesome shinobi and Temari's two over-protective younger brothers distracted.

They all trained their eyes on Shikamaru, determination gleaming in their eyes. Sakura came forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Shikamaru." She smiled, and around her, so did the other two kunoichi, one timid and kind, the other bright and cheerful, while the two boys nodded at him.

He felt grateful toward them and expressed that in two words: "Thank you."

0…o~*~o…0

"So this is what you do in your free time?" She sat beside him, leaning back on her hands, gazing up at the sky. He was lying on his back, arms crossed behind his head. He regarded her silently, eyes running quickly along her slender form. Her golden hair was tied back into her four ponytails, wearing her appropriate-slash-somewhat revealing outfit, paired with that carefree smile and wide, dark green eyes. She fit in perfectly. Her skin was slightly darker than his, clothing slightly breezier than other girls, and her grin was slightly wilder than any others. Her black lashes were curled, and, from his perspective, threw shadows in her eyes, making them darker while the sunlight that sneaked in through the slight gaps in the wood of the shade made them glow a little.

She glanced over at him, eyes glittering in amusement at having caught him staring at her. "See something you like?" she asked, leaning back more and crossing her legs. He blushed as he realized that yes, in fact, he did. A lot. He liked all of it. Golden complexion, wheat blonde hair, large teal eyes, and then the…her _curves. _He looked away. "Well?" Her tone took on a much more playful tone that caused his lips to twitch.

He met her eyes again. This girl… This _woman _would be the end of him. His mind was a jumble. He couldn't focus, couldn't form a rational thought, and his heart has yet to calm. When he looked her in the eye, he couldn't lie to her. Those eyes dragged out a part of him he never knew about and scattered his thoughts. "Your eyes," he said sincerely. She blinked those pretty orbs rapidly in surprise, and the blush that crossed her cheeks pleased him. He sat up and touched his fingertips to her eyelids, which hid them from sight for a moment. "Your hair," he murmured, letting his hand brush her parted bangs. "Your smile," he murmured with his own smile, which she returned. He didn't continue, because if he did she'd know just how much she'd gotten to him, just how much she'd cracked Shikamaru Nara.

"I like your hair, too," she replied, surprising him. He expected her to fish for more, but instead replied with compliments of her own. "And your eyes…" she trailed off, leaning closer. He froze, holding his breath as her lips brushed his eyelid. She felt so _real. _Her lips did not feel like silk, or like a rose petal, but were warm and slightly chapped. He shivered at the sensation, his own lips parting. "And your smile…" Her lips lightly trailed down until they met his own in a kiss. It was every bit as sweet as the one before, their first one. Her hand cradled his face like before, face tilted to the side slightly, going slowly, languidly, almost _lazily, _and it was easy for him to respond to. Before, he would've thought—if he ever really thought about that before—that she would've been wild and rough, demanding of him. But she was gentle and coaxing and comfortingly sweet, taking it slow and being easy on his inexperienced mind and body. When she pulled away, it was natural, and her eyes opened slowly as his did, meeting his and giving him that smile that she gave him before, the first time. There was a light blush on her cheeks, and he was certain he had the same, too, but he didn't care.

The moment was perfect. She laced her fingers through his, leaned against him and stared up at the clouds as they sat in companionable silence.

0…o~*~o…0

"A-are y-you h-hungry, Naruto-kun?" asked a timid voice. Wide cobalt eyes met pale lavender orbs. A bright blush instantly painted her porcelain skin.

In answer, his stomach growled, causing him to laugh carelessly and rub the back of his head and pat his stomach. "I sure am, Hinata!" he responded enthusiastically. She nodded and gave a shy smile.

Sparing a thought to the little purse in her pocket and the contents within, the amount it held, and calculating how much Naruto ate, Hinata felt her lips quirk, but she shook the thoughts away as his eyes met hers curiously, a sort of gentle expectance that she smiled at. "M-my treat," she offered. He gave a loud shout of elation and she blushed deeper at it, hiding her grin behind her sleeves. As they walked toward the ramen shop Naruto was so fond of, Hinata reevaluated the information she'd just gotten from Tenten. Lee was thoroughly distracted, and Choji had, surprisingly, joined them. Sakura had managed to gather Ino and get her to go shopping. Neji and Shino were now working on Kiba and Kankuro. But now there was Gaara, and she nervously searched for him along rooftops and alleyways and whatever they passed, but could never find him. She got an idea as she glanced over at Naruto.

He caught her looking, saw the worried look on her face and immediately became concerned like the great person he was. "What's wrong, Hinata?"

"I-I was wondering…d-did you know t-that G-Gaara was here?" she asked. His bright blue eyes widened more at this.

"What? No way!" he exclaimed.

"I-I w-was wondering i-if you wanted h-him t-to j-join us?" She glanced up at him from fiddling with her fingers.

"Hell yeah!" he shouted. "Where is he?"

"W-well, w-we h-have t-to find h-him, Na-Naruto-kun," she murmured. She gasped as his warm hand closed around hers and pulled her with him as he ran full-speed through the village.

"Well, c'mon then!" he shouted, leaping through the sky with Hinata in tow.

0…o~*~o…0

"I don't _care _if the ball can float in midair if you dance like a monkey who found a banana and a coconut around a rock while standing on your hands, where the fuck is my sister?" Kankuro demanded. Neji stood in front of him, face plain serious and eyes blank with his dark brows furrowed, holding a hot pink bouncy ball with yellow polka dots. His lips pressed into a hard line at the black-clad shinobi's refusal to play with the ball. _What does it take to get his damn mind off his older sister? There has to be something, _Neji mused.

"What if whoever makes the ball go higher gets a free meal?" Shino suggested. Kiba, who had been lying on his back with a sleepy white pup on his chest, lifted his head, interested. He stood, placing the pup atop his head, and joined the other three boys, giving a rueful smile.

"Obviously," he began arrogantly, "_I'll _be the one winning that. So why don't you all just give up and take me to—"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Kankuro cut him off, lifting his hands to move in time with his words. His eyes were locked on Kiba's, challenging him to deny his power. "No, no, you're _not._" They stared each other down, not noticing that Neji glanced at Shino in both praise and appreciation. _Well done, _Neji conveyed in a slight nod that Shino returned. This hadn't been as difficult as Neji had first thought. Shino had gone off to collect Kiba, and found Kankuro wandering around the village in search of his sister, and had persuaded them to come to Neji's house, while Neji had found a ball that Hinata had used to play with as a child. He thought very hard on what to do to make the boys become distracted by the ball while he and Shino thought up of other things to do to stray Kankuro's mind from his older sister, and had the sudden brilliant idea of _lying. _That was easy enough. Convincing Kankuro of something had been simple, even more so with Kiba, but both boys were more competitive than childishly playful, which Shino had known and thus made the lie into a competition. Seeing as how the whole thing was a scam and both boys were a little…slow, this would take a while, more than enough time for Shino and Neji to come up with more activities.

"Well, come on then!" Kiba exclaimed, spreading his arms challengingly. Kankuro scoffed and set his puppets aside as Kiba placed the dozing Akamaru on a patch of grass. Neji placed the ball in the middle of the yard and backed off as the two boys moved in closer to it. He stood next to Shino a little ways off and chuckled lightly as both of the boys moved to do handstands.

"How long do you think it'll take before they realize nothing's happening?" Neji asked, smirking as they began to dance.

"Knowing Kiba," Shino replied, "quite a while." They discussed other activities, watching the boys become more and more frustrated.

0…o~*~o…0

There were only so many places she could be, but Gaara had yet to find his oldest sibling. He sighed, pausing on a rooftop to think over how many places he'd already checked. With every passing minute, _second_, he became more and more worried about what that boy and his sister could be doing. He didn't know why he felt so worried or where it was coming from, only that he _had _to find her and _fast_. He remembered a time when he didn't care for Temari and her business, and gave her no second thought. It seemed the years of not being concerned have accumulated and are now coming full force. Perhaps we was overreacting, and perhaps nothing was happening, and perhaps his panic was misplaced, but he'd never felt this way before and he relished in it. He _loved _his siblings now, and now he had someone to care about. _Two _people to care about, and, like Naruto, he wanted to protect the people he loved. He wasn't sexist, but he knew women were more fragile than men. And he knew, since he had went by his more baser instincts growing up, that the one purpose men had had _way _back in the day was to defend and protect the women. He felt that instinct _now. _There was this…urgency in his body. Something in his mind was reminding him that Temari was _his sister _and this was a boy he had _barely _uttered two words at. Something in him vehemently refused to let Shikamaru spend _any _amount of _any _time with his sister without either he or Kankuro there.

His thoughts were violently interrupted by a hand suddenly clamping down on his shoulder and his name being shouted in his ear: "Gaara!" The voice was one he'd know anywhere, and he couldn't help but smile fondly, turning to face his friend. There was a wide, blindingly happy grin on Naruto's face and he chuckled at the redhead. "How's it going? How come you didn't tell me you were coming? How long you been here?" Naruto immediately fired off questions that Gaara answered patiently.

"I'm well, thank you. The trip was sudden and I've been here only a day. How are you?" he asked politely.

"Great!" Naruto said, and he looked like he was. Naruto was like a small sun, brilliantly smiling and glowing with a fire within which was clearly demonstrated in his blue eyes. Gaara couldn't help but join him in his joy. It was then that Gaara noticed the girl behind him; a shy, pale girl with short black hair and pale lavender eyes who smiled kindly at him. "Oh, Gaara, me and Hinata were wondering if you were hungry." He flung an arm around Hinata's shoulders—Gaara noticed how the faint blush on her cheeks spread to her whole face until she glowed scarlet—and he said in a sly voice, "Her treat."

Gaara wasn't one to deny Naruto, after all he _was _the reason Gaara now was the way he was and had ultimately changed his ways—so he nodded and gave Hinata a gentle smile to reassure her. She took a deep breath, her blush slowly fading when Naruto released her to put his arms behind his head, grinning his trademark grin. "A-alright then," Hinata said. "L-lead the way, Na-Naruto-kun." And so they continued their journey to Naruto's favorite ramen shop. Hinata smiled to herself, happy that she could help Shikamaru in any way. She now successfully had Gaara and Naruto distracted, while Naruto unconsciously helped by keeping Gaara talking, therefore keeping his mind off his older sister. Plus, she finally got the nerve to ask Naruto on a date, even if Gaara was there, too.

0…o~*~o…0

"You're being a little _too _obvious, you know," Temari commented offhandedly, smirking at Shikamaru's dumbfounded expression. She moved a piece on his shogi board, her eyes narrowing playfully as his own widened in surprise. "This is so unlike you," she murmured as he slumped a little. "A penny for your thoughts?"

Once again, his eyes slipped over her quickly. He'd admit that he had, in fact, been out of it all day. His mind strayed every few minutes and he couldn't seem to focus. So much so that she was even beating him in shogi. No one beat him in this game. "Ah, it doesn't matter," he sighed.

She grew irritated at that. She was only trying to comfort him. "What you think I don't care?" she asked. His eyes snapped back to hers in shock. "Tell me," she commanded.

He was confused. He just didn't _want _her to worry. He just wanted her to enjoy her time here. He didn't want to put her down with his stupid issues. But he could tell from her expression she wasn't letting it go. Normally he would've answered instantly, had it been any other girl looking at him like that. But no girl was like her and no girl would've spoken to him so curtly and demand he tell her his problems so she could help him. Certainly no person ever tried to forcefully make someone feel better when they didn't want them to. Yeah, normally he would've been scared enough to respond, but he couldn't help but notice how…_cute _she looked, teal eyes narrowed at him and lips pressed into a thin line, staring him down angrily. He shuddered; he was so cheesy. "Women are so troublesome…" he muttered beneath his breath.

"What was that?" she snapped. He shrunk back, furrowing his eyebrows. _Scarier than my mom…so much scarier. _"Tell me what's wrong!" She pounded one fist against the small table when he didn't answer her.

"It's none of your business," he grumbled. Her hand curled in his shirt, yanking him toward her. Her eyes were burning with her fury as she growled at him. Unfortunately, although he instantly looked her in the eyes, his eyes strayed to her cleavage, and he felt a slight blush on his face. Her eyes widened in realization, and her ego won over her embarrassment.

"Oh, _I _see," she said with a knowing smirk. He looked away quickly. "Uh-uh, I _caught _you. I don't blame you, though." She leaned closer, revealing more of her chest to him. "I'm not too bad looking."

_Of course I'm staring, _he thought, _you're beautiful. _"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"No, this is good," she reassured. He looked at her, wondering what she meant. "Now we have proof you really are a boy." She laughed as he banged his head against the table. Her laughter caused a warm feeling in his stomach, even if it was at his expense. It was a warm laugh, a golden, rich sound that contrasted the normally silvery laughs of other girls he knew. "Don't hurt yourself now," she said.

He lifted his head slowly and met her gaze, and he decided he liked how she looked right about now. She was still smiling and her eyes were slightly squinted in humor, green eyes glistening which she wiped at. She _glowed _right then, and he couldn't help but smile back, rubbing at his forehead. _Well, _he thought, _at least she knows how to cheer me up. _

It still didn't help him. When she did that, it only made it worse. His mind was now crowded with pictures of her. Laughing, smiling, teasing him, mocking him, yelling at him, kissing him… He sighed again. There was that feeling again, that strange fluttery feeling in his chest that hurt and tickled at the same time. He liked the feeling and yet it tortured him. He flopped over the table again, being dramatic in his depression. He wasn't used to it. He didn't understand it. He couldn't figure it out. His brain came up with different solutions but they all ended the same way: Let Temari go. It was the rational thing to do. The feeling would stop then. And that's where the pain started. He didn't _want _to let her go. His heart hurt whenever he thought about living in a Temariless world.

She felt her heart skip a beat in her worry as she saw a pained look overtake his features and then he threw himself over the small table, hiding his face in his arms. Did she hurt his feelings? Hesitantly, she reached a hand out to him, and then fretted he might refuse her comfort. _Ha, _she scoffed in her head, _as if I care if he accepts or not. He's getting whether he wants it or not. _She placed her hand on the back of his head, letting her thumb stroke the thick strands in his strange ponytail. "Tell me what's wrong," she said softly. He looked up at her, and was surprised to see the gentle look on her face. Her eyes were tender and there was a faint smile on her face.

_No, _he thought, _I like this_ _look, too. _He studied her and she let him, patiently waiting for his response. This woman would be the death of him, he was sure now. She was tearing him apart and he didn't understand how. His undoing… Surely, she was his undoing. His thoughts were a jumble in his mind, his heart pounding, his world crumbling to pieces all at the same time when she was around. He didn't know how to speak right and didn't know what to say. And when he saw her eyebrows furrow a little and her head tilt to the side, eyes still wide and lips still curled into that one little simper, his mind went blank. And he panicked a little. His mind _never _did that. There was always something he was thinking about. This woman had stolen that from him, just like she did his—

_Oh, no, _he thought. _It can't be. I'm not… I'm not…with _her_? No, it can't be. _

But it was. And he could see that now. It was suddenly so clear to him now that he gave a breathless laugh, not in relief and not in joy, but in disbelief. Pure surprise and pure confusion. He must've gone mad.

She was concerned again. Was he okay? He suddenly seemed so strange. He laughed once and straightened, eyes still on her, appraising her. "Shikamaru…?" she inquired, "Are you alright—" She gave a soft yelp when he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him, and then his lips were on hers and she didn't care anymore. The kiss was sloppy and quick and filled with certain happiness that she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck. It was an innocent kiss that she instantly concluded she liked, even more so when it was coming from Shikamaru. And when he pulled away a little she bit her lip, eyes questioning. There was definitely something wrong here. His eyes were bright and his smile was big, cheeks flushed. "Shikamaru, what's wrong?" she asked.

"I love you," he sighed. His tone sounded annoyed, but she knew he spoke like that when he was hiding like a coward behind his poker face, so she smiled. He seemed to be waiting for her response, because his brown irises searched her own emerald ones carefully, pouting boyishly. She gave a soft giggle and kissed him lightly a few times.

"I love you, too," she said against his lips. It was a heated moment. Her chest pressed to his and his arms wrapped around her waist, the shogi board having been thrown aside somehow. There was a hunger in the silence that made them blush at the same time. They were new to this, and he suddenly had a thought pop out to him in the peaceful silence that now enveloped his mind. She was sixteen and he was thirteen. How in the hell had he attracted _her _in the first place? _Look at her, _his mind shouted at him. This was insane. She was _way _out of his league. _But, _his ego whispered, _she wants _you. And it was obvious in her eyes. But he didn't know how to act. She bit her lip again as leaned in again to kiss her—

"Shikamaru!" his mom yelled from the kitchen. They jumped away from each other, hearts pounding in their embarrassment. She hadn't caught them, but she might as well have. He fixed the shogi board back into place and she picked up the pieces. His mother slid open the door and found them deep in a game of shogi. _My, what a lovely girl, _she thought to herself in awe. "Dinner's ready. Is your friend going to stay and eat with us?" she asked in a sugar sweet voice that Shikamaru did not trust.

"Yes," Temari answered for him, immediately taking a liking to his mother. _Of course,_ he thought, _they're the same. _His mother smiled and nodded.

"I'll just set up the table then." They followed her out and, as she turned her back on them, Temari placed a light kiss on his cheek, making him turn red again.

"Women," he grumbled, causing her to smirk.

0…o~*~o…0

**A.N.:**** Well, I tried my best. I know all the Leaf ninjas work together, and I like that. So it seemed they'd do so any other time other than just on missions. They must've formed close-knit relationships. Of course, I picked the most level-headed to help Shikamaru in his romance. I know Gaara would never turn Naruto down; he's his first friend of course! And. From what I've seen, Kiba and Kankuro seem to have a bit of a competition between them already. I struggled to keep them all in character, but I think I did okay.**

**Song: Accidentally in Love**

**Artist: Counting Crows**

**Anyway, please review!**


	3. Lovesong

**A.N:**** This chapter was hard for me to write. I got a headache in the middle of it and the song was slow and sad, but it set the mood. It might be confusing or it might make complete sense. Depends on you are. This song also wasn't on the list. But the same thing happened as the chapter before. I'm weak. Forgive me. **

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own **_**Naruto **_**or its characters.**

**Lovesong**

It was all too soon that she had to leave. The village of Sunagakure wanted their shinobi back and missions were rolling in for Shikamaru. The last few hours were spent packing all their things, having one last meal with all their friends from Konohagakure, and the two love-birds mourning their parting. When they finally reached the entrance to the village, they both gave a sigh. They did not hold hands on the way there, did not look each other directly in the eye, or even utter so much as two words to one another. The fact that they were being torn apart for their duties was too much.

_I should've known, _Shikamaru thought. They lived in two different countries, three whole days apart, and he had hoped they could still make it work. He hadn't been thinking, but that was to be expected. He couldn't think about anything when that blonde was on his mind. He'd become something of a zombie around her. A foolish, silly, love-sick zombie that he wasn't sure he hated or not. And she had been no better. He placed a hand over his heart, glancing up at the sky, trying to ignore the ache there in his chest.

A warm, slender hand covered his, emerald eyes meeting brown orbs. There was tenderness there where he found a strange refuge, and he realized he wasn't the only one feeling this way. He wasn't alone. Her lips curled at the edges as she spoke, "I'll see you." It was a promise that reassured him. He let go of a breath and nodded. The kiss she gave him was gentle, slowly burning. She pulled away before they lost it, and paused there, lips just inches from his own, their eyes closed, letting the moment linger.

The spell was broken by Kankuro's impatient voice. "Come one already, Temari!" Both her little brothers were annoyed. Sure, it was nice to see her so happy, but it pissed them off seeing her with that boy and they weren't completely sure why. They watched silently as she gave the boy a light hug before striding over to them. They turned and began walking out of the village, out toward the forest around and to their home. Temari turned and gave Shikamaru another smile that he returned, and then she hurried to catch up to her brothers.

Shikamaru watched her go, his smile slowing slipping off his face.

0…o~*~o…0

A world without Temari was a gray one. Without her wild grin or fiery eyes or resounding golden laughter, he was back to square one: Depression. He spent his free time in his room or on his roof, staring at the wall or up at the clouds but never really seeing. Yes, he did do his duties. He completed his missions and tried his best and was every bit as functional in the battlefield as he used to be, but at home he wasn't the same. His family became anxious and friends became worried. _What happened to Shikamaru? _They'd ask that question whenever they could. To Sakura who seemed to know the most, to his best friend who was most stricken, to his parents who bit their thumbs nervously, or to his sensei whose eyebrows remained knit together in concern, but no one had a clear answer. Had their plan failed? Had Shikamaru not found happiness after all?

Temari was no better. Like Shikamaru, she was just fine in her missions and duties, but she moped around in her room and around her house listlessly. At first, Kankuro had tried to cheer her up by telling jokes and being silly, but she never responded the way she used to. She merely gave a faint smile and a single nod before settling back into her sadness. Gaara hadn't the slightest what to do, so he simply sat beside her on the couch and let her rest her head on his shoulder as they watched sad love movies, bought her whatever snack she wanted, and held them for her as she ate. When she cried, he let her do so into his shirt, not minding when she stained his shirt. It made him feel needed and he felt no disgust when he found her snot there, too. He was happy to help her and devastated she felt like this. It was a confusing turmoil within him, growing until he finally confronted Kankuro. "What's wrong with Temari?" he asked his big brother. Kankuro was lying in his bed, one arm thrown over his eyes and the other resting on his stomach. He didn't answer for a while, and then shifted his arm away, meeting Gaara's stare slowly.

0…o~*~o…0

Naruto was fed up with it. Shikamaru was acting strangely and he was starting to get scared. The lazy boy's eyes were dark and he barely smiled anymore. It was starting to spread, too. Sakura didn't react to Naruto's jokes, Ino was always pouting, Choji didn't eat as much, Kiba and Akamaru just lied around and did nothing, Shino…well not much changed but that he was more quiet than usual, Neji didn't train as much, Rock Lee wasn't as happy which was tragedy enough as it was, Tenten didn't play around, and Hinata always stared down at the ground with her eyes looking troubled… Naruto couldn't take so much sadness. It was bad enough before, but now? It was unbearable.

He'd asked around but couldn't figure out anything. No one had any answers as to why his old friend was so depressed. So he was left with no other choice. He had to speak to Lady Tsunade.

"Hey, grandma," Naruto said, barging into the room. She had been reading over a message, eyebrow furrowed as she bit her thumbnail. She glanced up and sighed.

"What is it? I'm very busy," she murmured. Naruto let the door shut behind him as he entered the room.

"Tell me what's wrong with Shikamaru," Naruto demanded. Tsunade gave another sigh. He was always so blunt, never thinking things through. What in the world made him think _she _knew?

She leaned back and looked down at the message. It might've been a coincidence. She wasn't one for destiny and all that sappy shit. But she and Naruto had the exact same question in mind. She didn't know what was wrong with Shikamaru, but she did notice something off. And now, with this message, came a more pressing problem. Their allies were facing the same issue with a particular kunoichi. And then it came to her. She knew what was wrong with _both _of them. Hazel brown met sapphire evenly. "Shikamaru…" she began in a calm, level voice.

0…o~*~o…0

Sakura didn't know what was worse; her broken heart…or Shikamaru's. It pained her to see her friend like this. And he wouldn't speak to anybody. But she felt grateful that he at least allowed her to sit beside him on the roof, watching clouds with him. It seemed she was the only one he did this with anymore. Not even Choji…

She shook her head and trained her eyes on her hands, clasped before her. This was nothing like her own depression. Sasuke had never expressed his affections to her like Temari had to Shikamaru. Sasuke had never spoken to her like Temari had to Shikamaru. Sasuke had never said he loved her like Temari had to Shikamaru. Sasuke had left because he wanted to, not because his village demanded it. Temari had to leave because she still had things to do, duties to attend to, and a village to protect… Sakura knew that Shikamaru accepted that, that that wasn't why he was so sad. It was because he was…he missed her. He missed Temari so much that he was hurting. Sakura understood his pain, and that was why Shikamaru found comfort with her.

So they sat in silence, each mourning their own love.

0…o~*~o…0

Hinata hated herself. Shikamaru was sad and it was all her fault. Maybe if she had tried harder to make his and Temari's time better, he wouldn't be like this. She gave another sigh into the gentle wind that passed through her backyard, her black hair fluttering in the wind. Neji sat beside her, drinking tea. He was also troubled by Shikamaru and felt a mutual self-loathing that Hinata felt, sharing in their negative feelings.

It had been a week since Temari had gone, and he was getting worse and worse. Choji missed his best friend. He had so much to talk about. He didn't blame Temari, but he felt it was partly due to her that Shikamaru was like this. As he kicked another pebble, he found Kiba in a similar state as he, sitting on a small hill. After a moment, he went over and joined him, and, when a moment of silence passed, he offered a bag of potato chips that Kiba quietly took from.

Lee and Tenten had been training for hours now, and were both now breathing loudly. But it was good. Hard work took their minds off of their sad friend. The look in his brown eyes haunted Lee, and he found he'd lost some of his spunk. And Tenten felt like a failure. She couldn't let these thoughts get her down, so they both put their emotions into their training.

And the same question was asked: _What happened to Shikamaru? _

0…o~*~o…0

Gaara sat at the end of Kankuro's bed as his big brother sat up. Temari slept in the bedroom next door, and they could hear her uneven breathing; she'd been crying in her sleep again. They both sighed at the same time. They felt partly to blame for. Guilt ate away at them as they stared remorsefully at the ground. Gaara turned his pale green eyes to his big brother. "What's wrong with Temari, Kankuro?" he asked softly. Kankuro looked at his baby brother and gave a small smile. The picture of innocence: Those wide pale eyes, looking worried and confused, a small round face turned toward him, with a childish pout, asking a question he could hardly answer.

Kankuro was no expert on women. He could never say what was on Temari's mind; never say why it was she gave faint sighs every now and then, or why her eyes looked so wistful now. All he knew was that she was hurting, and he and Gaara both shared similar regret. This time, though, he knew why she was acting this way. The years they spent in horror of Gaara had made them close and, yes, now that Gaara was nicer to them they'd opened their arms to let him join in, too, but nothing could take away what bond they'd formed. Kankuro could never say exactly why Temari did certain things, but he knew why she was crying softly in her dreams.

He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Temari…she…"

0…o~*~o…0

"What?" Naruto mumbled. Tsunade had her hands interlocked before her, regarding Naruto with a stern gaze. She gave a nod.

"That's right." She pushed the message toward him with one polished nail. Naruto came forward and took the paper, reading it with a confused expression. "Temari of Sunagakure is also in a similar state. I believe they are connected." He set the paper back down and looked at her again.

Now it all made sense. Naruto could understand why Shikamaru was like this. He'd been selfish, he could see that now. "Shikamaru…" he whispered. _I'm so sorry. _

0…o~*~o…0

"She's in love, Gaara," Kankuro said.

If this was love, this fear and all these tears, the longing and the pain, and all the shaky murmurs and strange dreams, then Gaara never wanted to be in love. It seemed like torture. He didn't think he could handle all that, and felt proud his sister could. Yet he hated that she had to. He could hear her now, her whimpers and her catching breaths.

"How can we help her?" Gaara asked, closing his eyes.

"We can't do anything. The one she's in love with is three days away, and there's no way they can be together. Years of friction between Konoha and Suna have insured that any personal relationships will fall apart. No one can be apart like that for so long and stay together. _Look _at her, Gaara," Kankuro insisted, nodding toward Temari's sniffles. "She can't do it."

"I… But I want to _help_ her," Gaara muttered.

"I do, too. But this isn't our fight. They have to figure this out on their own."

0…o~*~o…0

"It's affecting him. Pretty soon it'll affect his missions as well," Tsunade murmured, folding her hands before her. "You five are responsible for this; Sakura Haruno, Neji Hyuga, Tenten, Shino Aburame, and Hinata Hyuga." All five stood before her in order, heads bowed. "And it's affecting her as well."

"Lady—" Sakura began, prepared to defend her friends.

"I'm not blaming you," Tsunade said, holding her hand up to cut off her apprentice. "This is a very beautiful thing. But, sad as it is, it's impossible for them to be together." They all looked at her in surprise. "We have only recently become allied with Sunagakure, and there is far too much history between us for something like this to occur so soon. I'm sorry." She leaned back and massaged her forehead.

"Lady Hokage," Neji said, receiving her attention instantly. "If you've seen Shikamaru Nara at all lately, you would see just how broken he truly is."

"I'm well aware of that," she said irritably. "That's why I've contacted Sunagakure. We cannot stand to have our own shinobi in this state." She slammed a hand down on the desk, making all five flinch as a large crack formed along the edge. "We have come to an agreement."

0…o~*~o…0

Had he ever felt so alive, he'd be dead. Warmth surrounded him as he his thumbs traced a blushing face, hands cradling a lovely face. Two beautiful eyes gazed at him with gentle kindness. Her hands clung to his chest as he wiped away at the little drops of liquid that had formed, wetting her lashes. His mind was blank again and he welcomed it. All he could think was _green…wind…kiss… _And his lips found hers. They sat on his roof, under his shade. He sat cross legged, facing her as she sat with her legs folded under her. "I missed you," she murmured as he pulled away to kiss her forehead.

"I did, too," he whispered. After a long, sweet silence, he softly breathed, "How long?"

"Only two weeks," she replied. "They're working it out."

He pulled her closer, tucking her head under his chin. "I'll try to…" He hid his embarrassed scowl in her hair. "I'll try to make them two weeks you'll never forget." She laughed, making him blush.

"I bet you will," she said, lifting her head to grin at him. "Of course you will." He rested his forehead against hers and smiled back.

"I really like your smile."

"I really like yours." She pressed her lips to his once more.

0…o~*~o…0

**A.N:**** I personally think it's a little cheesy. But that's my opinion. You're all entitled to your own. These next few chapters will be a little random; things they do over the next two weeks in their story. And, for the curious, Gaara and Kankuro are currently in the Sand Village, a little pissed off and jealous, but dealing with it. And now I'll start getting back to my list of music! I'm sorry to say, thought, it may take me a while, because I'm going on a trip to my hometown and will be visiting my adorable grandmother. But I'll sneak in a few while I'm there.**

**Song: Lovesong**

**Artist: Adele**

**(It's a cover of The Cure's song. I prefer Adele's over the original but, meh, if you feel differently, go ahead and feel that way.)**


	4. Lento

**A.N.****: Do not be confused by the lyrics, I will [attempt] to translate at the bottom. The song was cheerful to me and so I chose it. Like I said, these next few chapters will be random and I'm sticking to my amazing list of strange music. **

**Disclaimer****: I do not own **_**Naruto **_**or any of its characters, nor do I own this song.**

**Lento**

_Si quieres un poco de mi,_

_Me deberias esperar,_

_Y caminar a paso lento,_

_Muy lento…_

The first thing on her list of things to do was eat ice cream. In Suna, they couldn't really eat ice cream in peace because it was way too hot. But it was just about perfect in Konoha and she was fully prepared to take advantage of that. So the moment he knocked on her door, hands tucked into his pockets as he observed the clinging vines decorating the beige walls of the apartment, she flung the door open and declared, "I want ice cream," in a straight face. Her hair was down and she wore a white sunhat with a lavender ribbon, a white sundress with a scattering of violets at the bottom, and plain sandals. She shut the door behind her as she walked forward, passing him and muttering, "You're paying," before he could respond.

_You look beautiful, _he wanted to say, but sighed instead. He turned and followed her down the three little steps on the apartment's tiny porch. He walked beside her, not sure what to say. This was his first date and he wasn't a hundred percent sure on the protocol. His dad had seen him stumbling about early in the morning, getting ready, and asked him what he was in such a hurry for. He was forced to tell him—thanking whatever deity that had been looking after him that day that his mom was still asleep—and had to endure the torture of his father giving him advice. "Why would I need dating advice from a man who married _that _woman?" he'd said, pointing at his parents' shut bedroom door. His father gave a chuckle and nodded, patting his son's head when a slight smile curved his lips. And now as he watched Temari in the gentle glow of morning, he kind of regretting turning down his father's tips. Maybe the man had something useful to say…

"You want _ice cream_?" Shikamaru asked with disbelief etched on his face. Temari, who had killed dozens of shinobi, stood amongst the strongest in her village, who was known for being a merciless, cruel, and deadly kunoichi wanted _ice cream? _But from the look on her face, she wasn't joking. She was dead serious…and _insistent, _for she caught his wrist and pulled him along when he stopped.

"Of course I want ice cream," she snapped, walking fast. "What you've got a _problem_ with that?" she demanded.

"Not at all," he grumbled, "but you're going the wrong way." She stopped immediately, eyes shadowed by her bangs as he suppressed a smile. He turned and led her in the other direction, passing other civilians and shops, letting her cool off from her quick temper that he was slowly getting accustomed to, until they arrived at a measly shop that promised the best ice cream in town. Choji often went here and assured Shikamaru that it did, indeed, sell the best ice cream he'd ever tasted. There were only three tables there and only two other customers, a father and his toddler daughter, and the only employees consisted of a young man with a shy face and kind eyes and an elderly woman who was delicately frail and had a motherly atmosphere.

They looked through the clear glass at the flavors for a few moments before he decided on just eating a one-scooped vanilla ice cream cone, and jumped a little when she gave a mocking snort. "What?" he asked.

"That's so boring," she said. "Why don't you go a little crazy?" She turned back to the flavors and ordered a banana split with chocolate and vanilla ice cream sprinkles on top and strawberry syrup, a three scooped cone with cookie dough, butter pecan, and banana, and an Oreo milkshake.

_Dear God, she's fat, _he thought as he watched her collect her "food" and strut off to sit at a table. He paid for her, surprised at how inexpensive it was, and sat down in front of her. He hesitantly licked at his cone and found he really did like the taste, but was much more interested in how Temari went about eating all that. She started with the cone, licking the banana-flavored ice cream eagerly, eyes closed in content. "That's insane," he mumbled around his own cone.

"This is _normal,_" Temari corrected as she finished the first scoop and continued to the butter pecan. "What kind of a person _are _you?" she asked with a glare.

"A person that knows their limits," he muttered.

"_This_ is your limit? Wimp," she scoffed.

"I don't have much of a sweet tooth."

"Yeah, I can tell."

"How can someone so small eat so much?"

She finished with her cone, cleaning the rest happily with her tongue—which he blushed at, thinking unwanted dirty thoughts, and hid by finishing his own cone—and moved on to her sundae. "I just haven't been able to eat ice cream in a while."

"Huh." He gazed out the small window at the people passing by, tracing the tiny cracks and slight smudges on the glass with his eyes. He started when he felt something cool and plastic touch his lips lightly. She was offering him some of her sundae. He took the spoon and ate some, and quickly decided he liked this, too. They passed the spoon back and forth between them as they devoured the sundae together, and talked of meaningless things. Well, they should've been meaningless, but Shikamaru found himself saving away whatever bit of information about Temari he could get.

"I like flowers," she commented as she cut off a piece of the banana and popped it into her mouth and handed the spoon back to Shikamaru. He briefly thought of Ino and her family's shop. Perhaps he'd buy Temari some at some point. "I don't know how to cook."

"I'm not surprised by that."

"Shut up."

Once they finished the sundae, they went onto the milkshake. But a few sips into it and Temari was complaining that she was too full for more, forcing Shikamaru to drink it instead. "See? I told you. Know your limits."

"Know your limits," she mimicked in a parody of his voice.

"Do I _really _sound like that?"

"You do to me."

"You need to check your ears."

"You need to be quiet."

They cleared the table and threw away what trash they'd had and headed out into the streets. He vaguely wondered if it had been a good idea to eat desserts so early in the day, but she looked happy so he said nothing. Many people were opening up their shops, and the streets were now crowded with people getting to work and people going out shopping. Some of his friends were out on missions while some trained and others wandered about aimlessly, enjoying their day. He tucked his hands back into his pockets as he gave an absentminded smile.

Now that they had that over and done with, Temari moved onto the next thing on her list.

0…o~*~o…0

_Y poco a poco olvidar_

_El tiempo y su velocidad,_

_Frenar el ritmo,_

_Ir muy lento,_

_Mas lento._

"Rock climbing!" she shouted, giving a careless, hearty laugh. She'd changed into a pair of black pants and a purple t-shirt and some thick hiking boots, wearing fingerless gloves and her hair back into her normal style. She had a back pack filled with snacks and water, and hung from a cord strapped around her waist, scaling the side of a mountain. Many people down below looked up at her shout but she didn't care. She was in the _zone_ now. She easily maneuvered herself upward, catching unto any crevice or small ledge she could find. "Come on, don't be a pussy!" she yelled at Shikamaru, who clung in horror at the same rock he'd been on for the past few minutes.

_I can knock out men twice my size without batting a lash, face opponents far stronger than I, sleep in a forest all by myself without fear, but I can't fucking climb a mountain, _he thought, scowling at his hands. The only good thing about this was her laughter. It rang all around them in loud bursts. He hadn't known she had so much energy; she was almost at the top. _C'mon, Shikamaru. Don't let yourself be beaten by a female. _With a grunt, he pulled himself up. _Just don't look down, _he chanted in his mind. _Just don't look down. Just don't look—is she _whistling_? _

"Ha," she sighed, grinning as she threw a leg over the ledge, hooking an arm over it to pull herself up, rolling onto her back and panting. She got up and did a little dance, turning and putting her hands on her hips. "I beat him," she murmured to herself, and then she gave a breathless laugh. "I beat you!" He glared at her as he dragged himself onto the cliff, out of breath.

"Whatever," he grumbled, sitting up and crossing his legs. _Damn, _he thought. She sat beside him, still smirking and handing him a water bottle which he drank from gratefully.

"Don't feel too bad," she said after a while, leaning back on her hands and gazing up at the sky.

"What? You do this in Suna?" he asked, then took another sip.

"No, I've never done this before," she said, crushing his pride unintentionally. "But you proved my point."

"What point?" he muttered.

She met his gaze evenly and he felt something flutter in his stomach at the intensity there in her teal eyes. "That men and women can be equals."

And he felt guilt. Maybe he'd been ignorant before. Perhaps men and women were on similar levels. Perhaps the things he'd always thought were wrong. Perhaps there really was more to women than he'd thought. This woman right here had proven that time and time again. So who was he to question that? He gave her a smile that she returned whole heartedly and the moment seemed to freeze, and he suddenly wanted to kiss her.

"Next!" she shouted, snapping him back to reality. He scowled at his water bottle.

0…o~*~o…0

_Ser delicado y espera,_

_Dame tiempo para darte todo lo que tengo._

_Si quieres un poco de mi,_

_Dame paciencia y veras_

_Sera mejor que andar corriendo,_

_Levanta el vuelo._

"Ah…you sure about this?"

"What? You don't trust me?"

"I don't."

"Well, that's too fucking bad."

"…" Shikamaru was currently blindfolded, his arms spread before him as he tried to feel his way through the room. They were doing a sort of trust exercise. The owner of the game they were playing had set up a bunch of mines and traps all around—he wondered how in the hell that man was allowed to own all of it—and Temari was currently talking him through it. She stood at the other side of the room, hands raised slightly as she spoke, as if she were moving him with her hands. He hoped desperately she still wasn't trying to kill him.

"Walk forward…okay, stop. Turn left about ninety degrees…no that's too far. That's too little… Damn it, do you even _know _what ninety degrees _is_? Okay, there…walk forward…make a right. I mean, left! Left!"

"Are _trying_ to kill me?" he demanded.

"…No… Walk…keep walking…do a somersault… That is _not _a somersault," she snapped.

He yanked the blindfold off. "I still got here, didn't I?" Her eyes were amused and a small smile played on her lips. "Your turn."

"Okay," she said, "Tie it for me." He did as she said, and steered her toward the other side of the room. The man who owned the game was rearranging the objects in the in their space. In other sections of the room, other people were playing the same game, though not as extreme. Since they were shinobi, they had more of a challenge. But the prize was worth it, he supposed. It was two free tickets to whatever movie they wanted to see.

He stopped her and waited for the man to finish before going off to help others. "Alright then," he said, letting her go. He stood there a moment. "You trust me?" he asked, a slightly teasing tone entering his voice.

She surprised him. "Completely."

He blushed and was grateful she couldn't see, trudging off to the other side and memorizing the way the traps had been set up. "Okay," he whispered. He regarded her once, her stance determined and unwavering. It gave him a bit of courage. _She trusts me, _he thought. "Walk forward…"

0…o~*~o…0

_Y poco a poco olvidar_

_El tiempo y su velocidad,_

_Frenar el ritmo,_

_Ir muy lento,_

_Cada vez mas lento…_

"What were you _thinking_?" he asked, covering his eyes and gritting his teeth. The pain he'd felt… Shame washed over him, thick and overpowering that he almost fell to his knees. It might have only been an hour, but it was the hardest, slowest hour of his life. He shuddered as memories played through his mind. Will he ever be able to forget that? His head throbbed as his mind went on overdrive. Not even Temari could shut off whatever shit was going on in there.

"I _wasn't_…at least it doesn't seem like I was," she sighed. She wringed her hands in her lap, pouting silently. She squeezed her eyes shut as another picture ran across her vision. Hellish pale skin…blood…snapping bones…golden eyes…sparkles… _Oh, God, the sparkles, _she thought with a tremble. "Ugh," she groaned. She wrapped her arms around her knees. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Don't you dare ever do that to me again," he mumbled into his hands.

"Never," she promised.

They'd…_wasted _their prize on a movie they both now explicitly, _violently _hated. It was over an hour long and they weren't allowed to leave. Shikamaru couldn't help but think it was more of a form of torture than a prize. What made it worse was the fact that the theater was filled with a bunch of squealing preteen girls and their moms. How could they _like _that?

"It didn't make any _sense,_" he grumbled to himself. She glanced up at him. "None of it. _None._"

She nodded her head in agreement. "Nothing was logical."

"A girl fell in love with a _vampire _that _sparkles,_" he said.

She clapped her hands over her ears. "Don't _talk _about it!" She stood up suddenly. "Let's go do something."

"What do you want to do?" he asked, catching up to her.

"I don't know. Anything. Everything. Just want to get my mind off that…off that piece of shit of a—"

He shushed her and nodded over to some preteen girls standing in line to watch the movie. "Be considerate of their—"

"Don't even bother!" she yelled at them. "They end up—mph!" Shikamaru wrapped his arms around her and pulled her toward him, muffling her voice in his chest as he gave a nervous laugh and dragged her away from the wide-eyed girls.

"I told you be considerate!" he said, letting her go when they rounded a corner.

"I _was_ being considerate! You're the one being cruel. I could've saved them." she argued. "Anyway, I'm hungry. Feed me."

"Has anyone told you how blunt you are?" he asked.

"Has anyone told you how stupid you are?" she countered. Before he could answer she pointed to a small restaurant. "That seems like a good place." She marched on over and smiled at the woman who stood by the entrance. He sighed and followed her.

The shop was scattered with a respectable amount of people and they found a good seat in the back where they could eat and talk in peace. They wore casual clothing; Shikamaru in his usual getup but without the vest, the pouch, the blue strap and the bandages on his right leg, and the forehead protector; Temari in a simple blue shirt and purple skirt. She ordered Kenchin soup and tea while Shikamaru ordered miso soup. They ate in relative silence for a bit.

"So we both agree never to see movies ever again, right?" Shikamaru asked.

"Not romance movies," Temari muttered as she blew the steam away.

"What kind of flowers do you like?" he asked to change the subject.

"Anything but roses. I hate them."

"Why?"

"Overused."

"…That actually makes sense."

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"Not this time."

"Then you're saying I usually don't make sense."

"…Yes…"

She smiled as she took a sip of her tea. _The audacity of this boy. _"What kind of flowers do _you _like?"

"I don't really care for flowers."

"Why not? Too _girly _for you?"

"Yes. Flowers are for girls."

"Then I guess I don't like flowers anymore."

"So you're a guy now?"

"I guess I am."

"That makes things significantly more awkward."

"Oh? And why's that?"

He glanced up at her and scowled. She knew why. The way she was leaning toward him from across the table, her chin in her hand and a suggestive smile on her face… She knew _exactly _why. "I don't know, you tell me. You seem to have a pretty good idea."

She snickered and went back to eating her food, but didn't bother to respond, which frustrated him. She seemed to be pretty damn good at that. And he wasn't sure how to react to that. He wasn't sure whether he liked it or not. A part of him said no, but the feeling in his gut said yes.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. She was giving him another headache.

0…o~*~o…0

_Si me hablas de amor,_

_Si suavizas mi vida,_

_No estare mas tiempo_

_Sin saber que siento._

They sat on the couch in her temporary apartment, watching TV. Her head rested on his shoulder and his head on her own, watching a movie about some crazy pirate trying to win back his ship while some blacksmith tried to save some girl. It was nearing the time for Shikamaru to head home. Temari was getting sleepy and they knew they couldn't stay together for the night. That would be wrong. And lead to things they just weren't ready for, things better put off when they were older, well into this…relationship…and well into their lives. Perhaps it wouldn't even happen. Perhaps they'd fall out of love… But that didn't seem to matter at the moment. All that mattered was that she was breathing and warm and he was smiling a tiny smile.

When the clock struck ten, she shut off the TV and they stood to head to the door. "Today was fun," she said as she opened the door and he stepped outside. The night was cool and the village was lit up with lights, but they were ready to sleep and had seen what they wanted to see for the day. "Thank you."

He shrugged. "You planned it all."

"But you did it with me," she countered. "Barely even complained, too. Bonus."

He cracked a smile for her sake. "I had fun, too," he murmured, remembering her laughter and grins and bright eyes. He wanted to see that again.

"Good. I was beginning to doubt you," she scolded playfully. She was surprised at how easygoing he'd been all day. He never seemed mad or annoyed or even the slightest bit at the verge of giving up. She was strangely proud of him. She gave another smile. "Goodnight, Shikamaru."

"Goodnight, Temari." He kissed her cheek, feeling her blush under his lips and hid his smug smirk by turning away. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you then." As he walked down the steps and off toward his home, she called out, "I'm not going any easier on you tomorrow!"

"I'd be disappointed if you did," he replied.

0…o~*~o…0

_Ser delicado y espera,_

_Dame tiempo para darte todo lo que tengo._

_Ser delicado y espera,_

_Dame tiempo para darte todo lo que tengo._

0…o~*~o…0

**A.N.****: Took me a whole day, but I did it. I wanted to show the innocence of their relationship as best as possible. This was just a regular day for Shikamaru and Temari. Next chapter…can't wait. But I gotta go to bed for now, so I must make you wait. **

**Song: Lento**

**Artist: Julieta Venegas**

**Lyrics in English:**

_**If you want a little bit of me,**_

_**You should wait for me,**_

_**And walk slowly,**_

_**Real slow…**_

_**And bit by bit forget**_

_**About time and its velocity,**_

_**Stop the rhythm and go slowly,**_

_**More slowly…**_

_**Be delicate and wait,**_

_**Give me some time to give you all I have.**_

_**If you want a little bit of me,**_

_**Be patient and you'll see,**_

_**It will be better than if we were running**_

_**Or taking off.**_

_**And bit by bit forget**_

_**About time and its velocity,**_

_**Stop the rhythm and go slowly,**_

_**Each time more slowly…**_

_**If you talk to me of love,**_

_**If you make my life easier,**_

_**I won't take much time**_

_**Not knowing what I feel.**_

_**Be delicate and wait,**_

_**Give me some time to give you all I have.**_

_**Be delicate and wait,**_

_**Give me some time to give you all I have.**_


	5. Nocturne

**A.N.****: Hey, it's been awhile, huh? I finally got around to this after being consumed by drawing and my other story "Onyx Glare". But, here it is. At last. Fifth chapter. This has somewhat dark themes. Just a horrible nightmare, somewhat angst-y and hurt/comfort. Honestly, there are so many genres in this story **_**itself **_**that I just put "romance" because that was the main one. I'm a lazy person. Anyway, here it is. Enjoy, my dear readers.**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own **_**Naruto.**_

**Nocturne**

"Tell me something," she said. Her head was lying in his lap as they sat on his roof, holding his hand in one of hers as she fiddled with his fingers thoughtfully. He was leaning back on one hand with eyes trained on one particular cloud he thought looked like a muffin.

"Hm," he grunted, tilting his head down toward her. Her eyes met his, wide and wondering. Would he ever _stop _being surprised by how beautiful she was? _Okay, she's pretty, _he thought in annoyance, _get over it already. _

"Why clouds?" she asked. Her eyes flickered toward the sky and back as if he didn't know what she was talking about. Of course he knew. They were almost always on the same train of thought.

"Huh…" he sighed. "It's hard to explain." She merely blinked those wide eyes, an expectant look about her. He mulled it over, trying to form the best explanation. "I guess…their freedom."

"Freedom?" Her thin brows pulled together as she thought his answer over. She let her eyes stray toward the sky again, taking in every perfect white puff. They were merely a part of a never-ending cycle of water: Accumulation, evaporation, condensation, precipitation, and then back to accumulation; transpiration, condensation, precipitation; surface runoff/underground surface runoff, accumulation, evaporation, condensation, precipitation… Simple cycles that gave this world life, vibrancy, and color. He seemed so strung up on that one piece of the cycle, a massive, weightless mixture of water and air that would soon build and build until it fell back to the earth as rain… She pressed her palm to her forehead; she was thinking through it too deep. She met his gaze again, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I mean, look at them," he said, nodding up to the sky. "Completely unbound, drifting across the sky without any restraint, taking the shape of anything they please, just going with the breeze without any worries." He was smiling absentmindedly, and she felt a slight irked.

"They're clouds," she muttered, "they can't think."

"Sometimes," he murmured, "I don't want to, either."

She was struck silent. With brains like his, she would _always _want to be thinking. She could think up battle plans, strategies, put her village on top of every other. She would help change _everything. _But maybe it wasn't as much of a gift as she thought, if the dark look in his eyes told her anything. She stared at him a while, letting her eyes wander the smooth planes of his face, taking in whatever flaw and imperfection she found. _Well, _she thought, _doesn't he just look human? _

"Ignorance, I suppose, must be bliss," she breathed. His eyes locked onto her own.

"I guess so."

0…o~*~o…0

Slender fingers sifted carefully through soft grains, teal eyes roaming the vast room curiously. She caught sight of him, behind a large table. His fine, dark eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, sturdy hands working away at the hard, rough texture of a particular antler with a pale knife that glinted in the dim light above. _Nara, _she mused, _Shikamaru Nara. _His name, if shortened to just _Shika _mean "little deer", originally a girl name. Her lips quirked upward at the thought of how absolutely fitting the name was. He was slightly sexist, which annoyed her to no ends, and his family used deer antlers for medical purposes. They even had a greenhouse for it, filled with plants they'd discovered could compliment the deer antlers well in their medicinal use, where she and Shikamaru now stood in.

She admired the tiny flowers as he worked to make more medicine by his mother's request, only picking a few for him when he asked. She wanted to help him, but this was something better left to someone with experience. So she kept her distance, bringing him whatever supplies he needed and then going off to explore the place. It was vast, in length, height, and width, filled to the brim with plants and rocks and different trees that had been left to grow. She marveled at the mere detail put into it all. Beside Shikamaru was a large book filled with neat writing, ingredients to different treatments and remedies his family had discovered, left untouched by him; seems he didn't need it. She smiled affectionately at him as he grinded some herbs. He must've done about half of all those remedies so many times he learned them by heart.

It relieved her in a strange way. When he grew up, when he found a wife and had his children, he would be able to make sure they were all healthy. He would pass on all this information. And then there were those Shadow Techniques. His family legacy. Without any real reason, she wrapped her arms around him from behind. He paused in his work, momentarily confused, before going back to mixing the ingredients together in a clear bowl. He did not complain and did not question her, and that caused a slight flutter of pleasure through her. He'd be a wonderful husband to his wife in the future, whoever that would be.

And then a string of sadness tightened within her at that thought, causing her to hide a frown into his back. She didn't know the cause or the reason; just that her heart felt a little wounded. But with her face pressed to his shirt, she found she soon forgot about it. His scent clouded her senses and it was a welcome feeling. It was a strange smell. Like sandalwood and dirt, fresh and natural and so _like_ him she instantly loved it. She nuzzled her face into his back, smiling and closing her eyes as she breathed him in, her arms tightening around him slightly.

He found his heart pounding. She was warm and solid and he liked how she felt against him. It was random, the way she just hugged him like that. He'd been puzzled by her actions, but found he couldn't care less. He'd seen his mother do things similar like this to his father. Sometimes, she'd just smile softly at him, eyes warm in a way he couldn't quite understand. She'd hug him and be affectionate and his father would silently accept it, even seem to bask in it happily like a fat cat in a sunspot.

_Sometimes, even the toughest woman will show her gentle side to the man she loves, _went through Shikamaru's mind. He smiled to himself and went back to fixing the medicine his mother wanted.

And he liked it. He liked this gentle side of her. It made up for her horrible temper. And the way she seemed to snuggle up to him pleased him, reminded him of a puppy, cute and small and adoring. When he finished the medicine, he poured it into a small capsule and capped it, writing a label with a pencil and sticking it on. He lightly brushed one of her arms and turned to face her. Her eyes looked sleepy, tenderly melted into a sweet expression that made him smile, one that she returned drowsily before pressing her face into his chest and sighing contently. She was dozing off, he could tell, so he slipped the capsule into his pocket and readjusted her arms to wrap around his neck, wrapping one arm around her waist and ducking to wrap the other behind her knees. He lifted her, feeling her press her face into his neck as she tightened her hold on him.

Thankfully, the house was empty when he stepped in. She stretched out on his bed as he pulled the covers over her, yawning happily and relaxing as dreams seemed to overcome her. He was a little unnerved when he found his mother had gone to the store, and sighed when he had to write her a note and leave the capsule on the table for her. He had to distract himself. Temari was asleep on his bed and his body kept telling him to lie down with her. He couldn't do that. That would be really _stupid _of him. Things would lead to another and he just wasn't ready for that. And neither was she, he knew. Even if she was sixteen. _Too young, _he thought, _we're still too young for that. _

So he decided to clean his room. And Shikamaru Nara _never _cleaned his room unless his mother yelled at him to. This girl had changed him more that he'd thought.

0…o~*~o…0

Her dreams were never particularly interesting. Not to her. They mostly consisted of old memories, her mind twisting dark things into _darker _things. To the earliest of her knowledge, she knew that every night, with her sleep, came nightmares. Most of them were of Gaara. Killing with that sand, blood everywhere, intermixing with small grainy dirt that he would reuse, blood and more blood together, that _horrible_ look on his face… But, after Naruto had changed Gaara, that wasn't much of the case anymore. Sure, she had them at the beginning, but they were soon replaced with much more gentler dreams. Now with Gaara's faint smile and newly found kindness, all until she no longer had _those_ nightmares. Yet her mind, it seemed, would not let her rest, for she was now plagued with her own actions.

_Look at what you did, _her mind would hiss at her. _Look at how many people _you _killed. _And she'd wake in a cold sweat.

Sometimes, she'd cry. Sob silently into her pillow as she recalled all those missions. Weep quiet tears that she dried with her lavender sheets as images of those horrified faces swirled behind her closed eyelids. And, _oh, _she realized she was no saint. No better than how her baby brother had been. Much more sane, yes, but that gave her no excuse. Made her worse, actually, because she knew _full well_ just what she was doing. Knew full well that she was murdering the lives of someone somebody _somewhere _had loved. And the pain would wrack her body with heart wrenching cries of agony for those lost lives. Lives she'd torn and slaughtered and reaped before, _before, _it was their due time to leave this world on their own.

_Monster, _her mind would scream at her, _you're a damned monster and you know it! _And, _oh, _she realized that she was. She was and she knew it. She was a horrible person, not even worth being called human. Not even worth living. Not even worth existing. Not even worth being thought of. She'd twist in her sheets and take ragged breaths as she mourns the deaths of people she could've spared. People that could've been alive _right now. _

There were times, she'd regret to admit, that she even contemplated suicide, overcome with her own thoughts. Once, she'd even attempted it, but Gaara had caught her. He'd been coming to get a drink of water when he found her at a kitchen drawer, about to plunge a knife into her stomach. She didn't know how, but he'd reached her before she could, _so fast, _and snatched it away. Kankuro had come in, startled awake by the shouts, shouts from Temari as she tried to grab the knife from Gaara who shouted back at her in his worry and fear. Her younger brothers had calmed her, Kankuro wrapping her up in his arms and holding her to him as she cried hysterically, and Gaara whispering words of comforts, words that soothed her. She'd realized then that no one but Gaara could fully understand her.

She'd confronted Gaara the next night, finding him wide awake as usual in his bedroom. She could hear Kankuro's snores, deeply asleep, from where she stood at the doorway. "What is it, Temari?" he'd asked. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.

"I… I need your help," she'd whispered. He gestured for her to come in, sitting cross-legged on his bed where he'd been meditating to gain control over himself. After shutting the door, she moved to sit at the end of his bed. She played with his dark comforter as she spoke. "I… Last night I wanted to…"

"You wanted to end your life because you felt guilty," he'd stated. She blinked and looked at him in surprise. His pale green eyes were calm, gently understanding.

"H-how did you know?" she'd stuttered.

"I can hear you cry every night." The relief that washed through her was immense and she threw herself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Please, Gaara," she'd whimpered. "Please, _please, _tell me how to handle this." He gave a sigh and patted her back lightly.

"I won't say it will help you, but I'll tell you how I do it," he'd murmured, his raspy voice a strange comfort in the silence of their house; she didn't miss the present tense he used. She waited, trembling every now and then as the tears soaked his shirt. "I remember all the people I'd taken the lives of," he'd said softly, "and imagine them in a heaven, where they live peacefully without any pain or sadness or hate or war, waiting patiently for when their loved ones join them."

And it was a _nice_ thought. It caused her tears to end. She leaned back to look him in the eyes, smiling a broken smile as he wiped her tears away with his cold fingertips. His eyes were warm and his smile matched her own and she realized that this was something only she and Gaara could share, a mutual pain that was caused by similar things. A shuddering laugh escaped her as she kissed his forehead, right over his self-inflicted wound, the one forming that kanji that was no longer ironic.

"Do you feel better now, Temari?" he'd asked, unsure.

"Yes, Gaara," she'd said as she sat back, taking another deep breath. "Much better."

"Good. You scared me yesterday," he'd confessed.

"Never again," she'd reassured. She stood and gave him another hug, apologizing for the shirt—he waved a hand and shook his head, saying he didn't mind—and walking back to her room. "Oh, and, Gaara?" She turned to look at him as he brushed his pale fingers though his auburn hair. He met her gaze expectantly. "Thank you." He nodded, his lips curling up slightly.

She still had nightmares, but when she awoke in a cold sweat, she'd imagine that heaven Gaara had told her about and would find solace in that. Her pain, she noticed, had formed a strange bond between them. She knew that when she had become depressed about her separation from Shikamaru, when he had stayed with her and let her cry, ruining whatever shirt had had, and he never once complained. He comforted her with his silence. It was different from Kankuro in a way.

She loved both her brothers, needed them, and could not live without them.

Which was why when she came to Konohagakure to see Shikamaru, she cried herself awake, muffling screams into the pillow of her temporary bed. And she realized, sadly, that she could not picture that heaven without the reassuring though that Gaara was nearby to understand her, to gently remind her that she was not alone and that those people were now in a better place. And no one was there to stop her from hurting herself.

And this nightmare, the one she was experiencing right now, was the worst in a long time. Of a child, shrieking over the bloody corpse of her mother, looking at her with those big, horrified eyes, robbed of their innocence by Subaku no Temari. Crimson rubies dripped from her fan, mixing with the sands of the desert, the sands of her baby brother who stood aside, seeing this all go down. A cackling, insane, but not her own, rumbling all around her as the child, too was crushed by sand and wind, cries muffled, and she watched silently, unfeeling, and her mind blank.

_Look at what you did, _her mind hissed at her.

But when she woke up, in a start and jolt of her body, sandalwood and dirt engulfed her and she was held tenderly in warm arms, narrowed brown eyes wide with concern locked on her own green ones. "Are you okay, Temari?" asked a voice she'd know anywhere.

And, suddenly, she wasn't scared anymore.

0…o~*~o…0

"This is where I played as a child," he said. The wind was gentle as rusty, squeaky swings swayed, accompanied by the sweet laughter of children. So different from a terrible, terrified scream. They walked slowly in the sunset, a kindly orange glow painting the pavement of the sidewalk they strode on, their shadows close together, stretched long in the waning light. She held his hand, _clutched _at it more like, and looked about with innocent wonder. She'd been acting like this since he'd shaken her awake from what seemed like a very bad dream. She hadn't been able to speak, clinging to him and trembling.

"It's a little plain," she murmured. He supposed she was slowly recovering from whatever it was. He didn't dare ask her what it was. He was frightened she'd fall apart again.

"Yeah, well, whatever worked was fine with us back then," he muttered, watching as some kids tried to toss the swing over the bar and smiling to himself.

"I see," she mused.

"Did you have somewhere to play in Sunagakure?" he asked.

"Mm," she hummed, thinking, "no. I was the daughter of the Kazekage. Anything I wanted, I was given without a second thought. I never really had a normal childhood."

"I don't think I would've liked that."

"Why not?"

"Would've been boring."

She gave a light laugh. "You're right. It was."

The village had settled into a relaxed atmosphere, perfect, he figured, for her. She needed this calm to center herself. And she did, quite well. Slowly, but surely, and that's the way he liked it. She glanced over at him and an embarrassed look took up her fine face. "What is it?" he asked, slightly worried.

"I'm hungry," she admitted. "Starving."

"Me, too," he said quickly. Food would be good for her right now. Some sugar in her system would do her well. "Where do you want to eat?" he asked, searching the street they were on now.

She shook her head. "I want to get something and eat it at the apartment."

"Okay. What did you have in mind?" Doing anything she wanted was fine with him as long as she got better.

"Something…" She thought a moment, maybe assessing her cravings. "With rice, definitely, and some meat…and cooked vegetables." He nodded, thinking up of a place with something along those lines and led her to the restaurant. The food was wrapped up and put neatly into some boxes and into a plastic bag to go, and then they were off to her apartment, talking about their individual childhoods. "I liked to play with dolls. Kankuro had to play with me, though, because I didn't have many friends. He would use his puppet strings to make them move for me."

"I liked playing hide and seek with my friends. Naruto was terrible at the game. His clothes were always too bright."

"I liked playing with the porcelain figures my dad gave me."

"I liked tag."

"I had a tea set and had little tea parties with real food and tea."

"I had a kite that me and my dad made out of paper, sticks, and strings. It couldn't fly…"

"My dad would have artists come over and paint me portraits."

"I never really liked painting, but Naruto isn't half bad at it."

"We had cooks come over and make us grand dinners on our birthdays."

"My mom made me a chocolate cake and my dad bought me a soccer ball."

"…"

"Okay, so maybe it wasn't as great or expensive as_ your _birthdays, but it was still something," he grumbled when she went silent. They were already stepping up to her door, and her porch light, which had flickered on with the dark, illuminated her face. There were tears threatening to spill in her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong? Did I say something?" he asked. He reevaluated his words, wondering what could've offended her.

She shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. "No," she whimpered, "You didn't say anything. It's just…" She wiped her eyes, bottom lip trembling. "We're so _different_. We lived polar opposite lives, are two totally different people and we… We can't possibly be right for each other…"

Panicked, he grabbed her shoulders. "Hey now," he said, worry lacing with his voice, "so what if we're different? That doesn't mean anything! I mean, look at my parents. They're two totally different personalities and they make it work!"

She bit her lip and closed her eyes. "That's not what I meant!"

"Then what _do _you mean?" he asked. "I want to know what it is you're thinking," he insisted when she shook her head again.

"I was spoiled rotten," she said, "I got everything I ever wanted and more. And you… You had a normal life. You ate home cooked meals and had real friends and lived a _happy life, _and I…didn't. I'm not right for you. You deserve someone else." A gust of breath left her and she looked just a little helpless. And it scared him.

The Temari he knew would never look this pathetic. "That doesn't matter to me," he said softly.

"It does to me," she whispered.

He watched her fight with inner demons and suddenly wondered how sane she was. "So you want me to leave you alone?" It pained him to think of leaving her, for _any _amount of time.

She blinked and he realized the thought hurt her, too. "No!" she cried. She wrapped her arms around him.

"Then what do you want from me?" he asked, voice pleading. "Tell me what you _want_."

"I… I want _you._"

"Then you can have me." _Have all of me, _he thought, _I don't care. Just don't cry anymore. Don't ever look at me like that again._

She pulled back slowly to look at him. "Do you… Do you want _me_?"

"Yes," he sighed. "I've always wanted you."

"Y-you have?" She looked hopeful. Strangely innocent, eyes wide and cheeks pink, colored in sweetly.

"Yeah. Just took me a little while to realize it."

"Shikamaru?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm still hungry."

"Me, too," he chuckled, relieved.

0…o~*~o…0

"This is gonna be embarrassing for me to say," she began, poking at some broccoli with her chopsticks.

"I think we kind of crossed that line a few times today," he grumbled around his tea cup.

"I think we kind of _leaped _across that line a _lot _today, actually," she said, popping one tiny green miniature "tree"—as she so affectionately called them—into her mouth. He bit back a laugh and nodded.

"What is it?" he asked as he took a sip.

"I won't be able to sleep alone tonight." She ignored his shocked spluttering at the implications. "You already saw how much of a wreck I am."

He remembered with painful clarity, the fear he felt as she cried tortured sobs into his pillow and muttered horrible things to herself. "Yeah," he said. He chewed some pork meat thoughtfully. She certainly _couldn't _sleep alone tonight. "I'll stay the night. If you want."

"I do, actually. Very much." He'd been an instant comfort. She hadn't known she could feel such peace until she saw his eyes, his figure hovering over her, looking concerned and slightly frightened. When his hands cupped her face, her fears had washed away. All that was left behind was the blissful _relief _that he was there and she felt _safe. _She wanted to feel that all the time. And Shikamaru's presence was the key to that.

"I'll just go home real quick to tell my parents and get some clothes," he murmured, downing the rest of his tea. She nodded, feeling a sweet flutter of butterflies in her stomach when he smiled gently at her. "I'll be back soon." Those words, for some reason, made her inexplicably happy.

She cleared the table when he left, closing the boxes and putting the leftovers in the fridge. She took a quick shower, the hot water relaxing her tense muscles. She was already dressed in a pair of purple pajamas when he got back. She was sitting on the couch and watched him drop a backpack beside her. He pulled out some pajamas and went to shower, smiling at her as he went.

And then the anxiety hit her.

They were both teenagers, hormonal and very much attracted to each other. They were all alone with no one to bother them. All alone for the rest of the night.

What, exactly, would happen tonight?

0…o~*~o…0

**A.N.****: This chapter was more them getting to know each other, past the tempers and insults and sarcasm. The thing about Temari's nightmares... I always wondered how she'd cope, her being a girl and all, with those missions they send her on. I know for sure she and Kankuro would have nightmares of Gaara, back before he became nice. But then I wondered if they regretted their **_**own **_**actions. I figured Kankuro wouldn't, because he was a boy and for some reason boys are less affected by some things than girls—and he's admittedly a little violent and strange—so I left it to Temari. I also did that because I figured she had to have something in common with Gaara, so as to form her own unique bond with him. **

**The song I chose seemed to fit it for its sadness. And the next chapter, I promise will be out soon. I don't want to leave you hanging. **

**Song: Nocturne (Op. 9 No. 2)**

**Composer: Frederic Chopin**

**Please review!**


	6. Saltwater Room

**A.N.****: I was eager to get back to this. I really like this couple, I do, and I always find myself fretting over the tiniest details, trying to keep them as much in character as possible while also inputting my interpretations. It's difficult and exhausting but I always love the outcome. **

**I could never explain to you why I chose this song. But it got me to write this.**

**Warning****: Brief mature content.**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own **_**Naruto.**_

**Saltwater Room**

"You are _not _sleeping on the couch," she said when he started arranging the pillows to lie down on the tan-colored couch. He looked over his shoulder, a surprised expression in those eyes before he shook his head and continued fixing the couch. "Are you _deaf _or are you just too _stupid_ to understand what I _just _said?" It was an insult, she knew, but she couldn't care less. There was an underlying sense of panic in her at the thought of _any _distance between them tonight.

"I'm not going to pressure you," was all he said as he flopped down on the couch and turned his back on her.

"What? Pressure me? What's _that _supposed to mean?" she demanded, utterly and _thoroughly _confused and irritated by him.

"Think about it," he sighed in the lazy way he always did. He pointed at himself with his thumb, not even bothering to look at her. "I'm a boy and you're a girl."

"That answers _nothing,_" she grumbled, eyebrow twitching. He was _not _leaving her alone. There was in no way in _hell _that was happening. Not tonight. _Not ever, _she thought, feeling a bit sad when he didn't respond, only giving a simple shrug.

_Rejection_ was a feeling she was not accustomed to. As a child, her each and every desire was fulfilled without a problem. Anything she wanted was hers. She was used to that. She was also used to missing a lot of sleep due to her fears and regrets and remorse. And that was something she wanted to conquer, had always wanted to fight, but she realized, after so many years spent waking up horrified and _bawling, _that she couldn't do it alone. It just wasn't in her. Another feeling she was not accustomed to. _Hopelessness. Inadequacy. Weakness. _She was _strong, _and _capable, _and _brave… _Where had that all gone?

She turned, swallowing heavily, and walked to her temporary room. _Temporary. _Her stay here would be _temporary. _Soon she would be back home, waking up crying and having to imagine something that may or may not ever _exist. _And an infinite amount of sadness overwhelmed her as she shut the door and sat down at the end of the bed. _She _shouldn't exist.

She should be dead and those people should all be alive.

And then she realized what she'd just thought, and the anger snapped her back to attention. _Subaku no Temari _always_ gets what she wants._

"_Fuck_ this shit!" she yelled and stomped out of the room. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but even _she _was surprised when she kicked him back awake, his body jerking and eyes wide as he gave a silent grunt in pain. He was too stunned to stop her as she grabbed his hand and pulled him along with her back to her bedroom. "You're _not _sleeping on the fucking couch."

He let her lead him toward her bedroom, shocked by her straightforwardness—though, _really, _he shouldn't have been—but the thoughts came back to him in a whirlwind of doubts and excitement and worry, much like ones she could make with a simple, careless flutter of her fan. He couldn't sleep in the same bed as her. Who _knew_ what he would do to her in her sleep? He didn't want to scare her away with his stupid hormones. He caught the doorframe, halting them. "No, Temari," he said firmly. "We shouldn't."

She turned on him, eyes burning. "And _why_ not?"

There was something about her right then that reminded him of a candle flame. A pretty little flame that was alluring and calming and lit up a space gently, flickering and graceful in its own flippant way. But dangerous. If it were to be knocked over, surely the flame would catch onto flammable things, attracted like they always seemed to be, and grow to a fire that could destroy all in its path. He had to be really careful not to tip her. "I don't want you hurt you."

"_Hurt _me?" she scoffed. "You can't hurt me." He couldn't. There was no way. The only way he could was if he were to push her away and leave right then. She even waited for it, loosened her grip on him enough to let him if he chose it, expectant of the heartbreak that would definitely follow if he did. But he didn't. He didn't move. His eyes stayed on her, unreadable, eyebrows pulled together.

"But what if I do?" he asked softly. Her breath caught, heartbeat stuttered, as he tenderly cupped her face and stroked his thumb across her cheek.

"But what if you _don't_?" she countered in a whisper. Those brown orbs, narrow as it they already were, tightened slightly. He seemed to think about it a moment, looked her over and measured his own limits and control in his mind, wheels turning in his eyes as he thought.

He shook his head and took a step back, turning his back on her. "I can't. I'll be sleeping right out here, don't worry."

But then he felt her small, warm hand catch his elbow and glanced back. The color drained from his face as he saw the pained look on her face, her eyes wide and watery and frightened. "Please," she whimpered, causing his heart to clench. "_Please, _don't leave me."

It was awkward at first as they tried to fix themselves comfortably beside each other in the bed. It wasn't a small bed, but Temari insisted on hugging him, making his goal on keeping his hands off her impossible in every way. She snuggled her face into his chest, smelling floral and sweet and so very _feminine _that it was driving him crazy. She was warm and soft and _pliant, _her body melding against his, her curves a perfect contrast to the straight lines of his own body. He gave a silent sigh, shuddering ever so slightly. He couldn't go to sleep, but she had obviously passed out a few seconds after they'd found a comfortable position.

He focused on that single fact: She was soundly asleep.

Not one mumble or tear, just a light, steady, girlish snoring and a relaxed smile on her lovely face, and he found happiness in that. Enough to lull him to sleep gently. And, if he imagined a beach, he could almost imagine being pulled into the sea, and the sea was filled with peaceful dreams.

0…o~*~o…0

Oh, it was perfect.

Slender, calloused fingers danced across her skin, traced her finely defined muscles and curves, skimming briefly across the places she needed them most in a sweetly torture that made her give impatient sighs. She could feel his smile on her neck, where he'd been placing faint kisses, and she fought the urge to slap him. It was driving her mad. All of it; his touch, his scent, the look in his eyes… She suppressed a shudder when he softly blew across her heated skin. It surprised her how easily she came to life beneath him, already writhing and gasping under his hands, and he's yet to actually _do _anything. She didn't know when he'd stripped off her clothes, but she found that she couldn't care less. All that mattered right then was that _he _was touching her and that _he _was kissing her and that he_ hadn't _left her.

It was when she felt a wet pressure against her pulse point that she lost it. She grabbed his hand and pressed it over her breast, rolling her eyes when he chuckled at her bluntness. It was wonderful. His hands were large enough to cup the whole of it, hands roughened by his time as a shinobi, warm and deliciously gentle. When his thumb brushed over the pink tip, she could swear she heard angels singing. Which was ridiculous; she was over reacting to this, acting as if she were a stupid, feeble-minded girl who still believed in magic and soul mates. But, really, if she were to be honest, nothing had ever felt so right.

His other hand slowly ran down her body, long digits brushing her heat in a tantalizing manner she never knew he could ever accomplish. A hot, white flash of energy surged through her, live wires whipping across her nerves. When she came back to the present, she found his mouth was on hers. If that was how she felt with just _one _touch of him, she couldn't wait to see how she'd feel with _all _of him. His hands where everywhere, feeling her and making her become restless, whimpering and hissing every now and then, and it wasn't until she gave a moan that he caught her knee, parting her legs more for him. His lips kept hers busy, distracting her as he aligned himself with his opening. The hand on her knee moved down toward her core, slipping a finger inside.

Another moan escaped her.

0…o~*~o…0

Was she having a nightmare? It didn't _seem _like she was. But she was making distressed noises, body moving and trembling. He sat there beside her, cross-legged with his arms folded, watching her in worry. He'd woken up to her mumbles, too soft for him to make out anything. He suddenly wondered if he should've asked her what it was she dreamed about, so he could help her out of her fear, maybe act as a sort of therapist and lead her through a path of physiological healing… He rubbed his eyes and yawned; he'd only slept about thirty minutes and it was beginning to tax on him. He was used to sleeping at random intervals of the day, taking periodical naps and resting plenty between them.

Taking care of Temari sure was hard work.

She gave a sharp moan that made him freeze. Was that a pained moan or a…? He shook his head. _No, _he thought, _there's no _way_ she'd be dreaming about _that_. _

He reached over and was torn between waking her and touching her. He fought with his hormones as he lightly grasped her shoulder and gave her a shake. But she remained unconscious. He rubbed the back of his head, thinking over his choices. Wake her and his worries would be solved with a talk, but she would undoubtedly be crabby and snappy with him. Let her sleep and he'd continue watching her to make sure she didn't cry, but he'd save himself from her temper. It was the hardest choice he'd ever make.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and quietly padded over to her bedroom door, only glancing back to check if she was still having her nightmare, before slipping out to go to the kitchen. He filled a clear glass with cold water and made his way back to the room, making sure to silence the door by twisting the knob as he shut the door again. He quietly assessed her from the safe distance. She lied on her back, panting, limbs moving slowly beneath the covers, a frustrated expression where it should've been relaxed, and a slight sheen of sweat beginning to form on whatever skin was seeable from her pajamas—consisting of loose pajama pants and a simple tank top.

Careful not to wake her, he sat on the edge of the bed on her side, placing a hand on her stomach, covered by the blankets, and felt her relax slightly, confusing him. "Temari," he said, to which she responded with a sigh. He couldn't tell if she'd woken. "Wake up." To her credit, he wasn't really trying hard to wake her. More like lazily saying her name and only lightly shaking her. It wasn't until she gave a strangle cry that he panicked. _Bad dream, _he thought, _definitely a bad dream. _He shook her harder until those teal eyes fluttered open. They glanced around the room while he waited; holding the cup in his lap, ready to hand it to her when she finally gathered her bearings. When they finally landed on him, they widened considerably.

"It was…just a dream?" she whispered, crestfallen.

He didn't quite understand the sad look in her eyes. Who, in their right mind, would _want _a bad dream to be real? But he merely nodded, deciding not to judge her, and handed her the cup of water. She sat up carefully and took the cup, delicately sipping the water. She seemed deep in thought, eyebrows pulled together and her eyes trained on the blanket, but not really seeing it. He was fully prepared to comfort her when she finally came down from whatever shock her nightmare might've left her. "Temari…" he began, considering asking her about her nightmares.

"Well," she said in a cheerful tone that startled him, "I think I'm _really_ gonna enjoy the rest of my stay here."

_What the hell is she talking about?_

0…o~*~o…0

"Oh, hello," greeted Ino, looking pleasantly surprised. She'd been in the middle of spraying water on some roses when the couple had entered the shop. She was a little puzzled by the contrast in their expressions. Temari, looking as pretty and strong as only she could be, looked happy and at ease, beaming back at Ino kindly. While Shikamaru, seeming exhausted and irate, only narrowed his eyes at Ino like he always did when he was woken from a nap. _Well, _she thought, _a good relationship doesn't come without a few obstacles. _

"Hello," Temari said, her eyes taking in the shop, giving a content sigh.

"What can I do for you today?" Ino asked, placing the bottle back on the counter and wiping her hands on her apron as she walked forward in a good-hostess manner.

"Oh, nothing, really," Temari said. "I'm just here to admire the flowers." She caressed a pointed petal of a daisy, smiling softly.

"You like flowers?" Ino asked, shocked. She was happy to hear that. She had something in common with Shikamaru's girlfriend, therefore giving her a chance to befriend the girl. She wanted to get to know the Suna kunoichi, if not to be on friendly terms, then to maybe learn a thing or two from her, seeing as how highly praised her abilities as a shinobi were. "What kind in particular?"

"More of the long-stem," Temari responded, meeting Ino's gaze. Temari figured she liked the girl. Something about the kindly expression and the excited look about her made her come to this conclusion, especially when Ino hooked her arm through Temari's.

"Then I know you'll _love _these," Ino said, becoming eager when she was rewarded by Temari's warm simper. "They just came in from the Land of Water."

Shikamaru was put out with Temari. She hadn't answered _one _question of his, and instead asked if they could go see some flowers. He'd relented, of course—_anything _to make her smile—but all morning she'd been more than a little joyful. Ecstatic, really, and the Temari _he _knew was never _that_ cheerful. But he, grudgingly, was glad when she and Ino immediately took a liking to each other. It pleased him to know that a friend of his got along with the girl he liked. Perhaps, even, Ino could learn something that could help him get Temari to stop being so _damn _cryptic.

Who was he kidding? Nothing about girls would ever be that simple. He knew that the minute the two became friends that Ino wouldn't tell him _squat _about Temari. It was part of that stupid Girl Code thing. He couldn't stand it.

_She's being kind._

0…o~*~o…0

"What a nice girl," Temari commented as they strolled through the streets, her arm looped through his and his hands in his pockets as she held up a few foreign flowers to her nose to smell their sweet perfume. He gave a grunt in response. "And what pretty flowers," she sighed. They would _never _survive in her home, but that was okay. They wouldn't live past a week, or, at least, that's what Ino had told her as she wrapped them in a clear wrapper and bound them a pale lavender ribbon. He gave another grunt.

She was being airheaded now. This wasn't like her at _all. _He mulled over the reasons why but came up empty-handed. He was going to lose his mind soon if he didn't find the cause of her distracted state. He spotted Sakura, struggling with a great stack of books and sighed; that Hokage was really over working her. Temari handed him the flowers and walked over to Sakura. He watched in blank amazement as she greeted the pink-haired kunoichi and took a few books for her, giving a light laugh as she reassured Sakura kindly. He followed them, tucking the flowers in the crook of his elbow and pocketing his hands again, watching the blonde suspiciously.

"Oh," Sakura huffed, "she's driving me crazy. We were supposed to train today but she got caught up in some gambling issues and owes a huge debt. And now she has me and Shizune-san doing _all _of her paperwork!"

"That's terrible," Temari said, face scrunching in worry.

"I know! I can't find _any _time for practice these days," she sighed.

"You poor girl," Temari murmured. "I know how you feel. My father used to have us busy _all _the time. It really took a toll on our progress as shinobi."

"Ah and how are your brothers?" Sakura asked, reverting back to her usual polite appeal.

"Oh, they're quite well. Kankuro's making more puppets and Gaara… Well, you know, he's gotten so strong and he only seems to be getting stronger."

"Even to surpass your sensei?" Sakura asked.

"He's long _since_ surpassed Sensei," Temari said, but smiled fondly. "I'm proud of him." Sakura's lips twitched, her eyes warming.

_She's being talkative._

0…o~*~o…0

"Naruto Uzumaki," she said. Cobalt eyes flickered up curiously, pausing in his ravenous intake of ramen. "Thank you." She sat down beside him, vaguely aware of Shikamaru's sigh as he sat beside her.

"For what?" Naruto asked. Inside, he was bubbling with happiness. Usually, he didn't really care much when he saw Temari, but _now_, now she meant something so much more than before. Before she was just another kunoichi, incredibly strong and independent, surprisingly tougher than most other Konoha kunoichi; a good ally to have. Now, she was the key to his childhood friend's happiness, and that, to Naruto, was enough to set her above along with any other important person in his life. He figured the more he saw her, the more he'd grow to appreciate her, for that meant to Shikamaru was also seeing her and that he wasn't sad anymore. So he set down his bowl of ramen and turned all his attention to her, willing to hear anything she had to say.

"You saved my baby brother," she said. "He's changed so much because of you, and for the better."

"Gaara?" Naruto murmured, and then grinned brightly, stunning her. He laughed joyfully. "Ah, that was nothing! You don't have to thank me!"

She sighed, eyes seeming to melt as she realized how good of a person Naruto truly was. "I just felt grateful to you. He's gotten so strong because of you." She was about to continue but went silent when he spoke, his voice serious.

"No," he mumbled, looking down at his plate, "Gaara was already strong from the very start." She stared at him, surprised at his solemn expression, but broke into a smile as he laughed again. "But he ain't gonna beat me! I'll get stronger, too, you'll see!"

"Yes," she whispered, "I suppose you will." She turned and took some money out from her little purse, handing the bills to the owner. "Let me pay for that, Naruto."

"Really? Hey, that's great! Thank you!" he exclaimed, seeming genuinely pleased. His feelings, she realized, were always genuine. The thought pleased her. She ruffled his electric blonde hair and placed a kiss on his cheek. He blushed faintly, a little embarrassed and surprised. "What was that for?"

"For being a good friend to my baby brother," she said simply, and then turned and walked away. Naruto watched her thoughtfully before grinning and going back to his ramen. Shikamaru couldn't help but smile, patting Naruto's shoulder as he left and following Temari to wherever it was she was headed.

_She's being friendly._

0…o~*~o…0

Rock Lee was hard at work training as always, sweating bullets and winded, but with that determined look on his face that everyone admired him for, when he spotted a blonde girl and a black haired boy walking toward him. The blonde had eyes as green as the leafs in the trees around him, tanned skin, and wore a kind smile that he returned. _She is Gaara's older sister, _he thought, straightening and bowing when they were at a respectable distance. "Temari-san," Lee greeted, "Shikamaru-san."

"Hello," she said. "I trust you've healed fine." Her eyes looked him over; that ridiculous outfit, the silly haircut, the thick eyebrows, the wide eyes, and his lithe, lean body. Everything seemed in order, but it was the inside that really mattered, which was what she was asking him about.

He seemed to understand her meaning.

"Yes," he replied, suddenly flipping and kicking exuberantly to demonstrate that. Making flashy movements and landing perfectly and steadily on his feet like a cat, causing her to laugh gently. He was an easily likeable character, with a strange personality and a friendly disposition, polite in his own way. "I am feeling much better, thank you."

"Good," she murmured, crossing her arms.

"And yourself?" he asked, and then further explained at her confused expression. "How are you and Shikamaru-san?" He thought of how Shikamaru had been not too long ago and was relieved to see him smiling faintly beside Temari. _Temari-san, _Lee thought, _Shikamaru-san sure does love you._

"Oh, we're well," she reassured. "We only came to check on you, you know, because of the injuries."

"That is very considerate of you," Lee said, bowing once again. "Thank you."

"No, thank _you,_" Temari said. "You've done so much for me and you don't even know it." She gave her own bow, surprising both Rock Lee and Shikamaru. Temari, great Wind Master, was being humble to a Konoha shinobi. Lee smiled gently, giving a nod, feeling honored.

_She's being polite._

0…o~*~o…0

Many people questioned her affections. After all, she was practically royalty compared to him. A princess whereas he was a peasant. _Why _would someone like _her _admire someone like _him_? She could never say what the reason was exactly. Perhaps it was his strength, which he'd proven time and time again. Perhaps it was his motivation, which he'd demonstrated without restraint. Perhaps it was his joy, which he'd retained no matter the situation he faced. Perhaps it was his kindness, which he'd showed her and just about everyone he'd ever met. Or, maybe, it was because he could sympathize with her own hardships. She could never say exactly.

Only that she did admire him, and nothing could change that.

It could only grow, which it did, exponentially really. And that relieved her, because that meant that he had never changed for the worse. Only for the better, and that, she knew, was the greatest thing in the world she would ever know. Was that Naruto Uzumaki was _good, _through and through, and that would never change. Perhaps, she figured, _that _was the reason why she had fallen in love with him.

But when people asked her why she couldn't tell him, she had no words. She could go on and on about why she admired him so, but could never say why it was _exactly _she couldn't tell him. And that hurt her, it really did. To know she may have a chance to be with him, but to know she could never get the nerve to make it happen pained her in ways she could never say. Enough that she sometimes hated herself for being shy.

"Try talking to him for a change," a feminine voice said. Hinata glanced up, caught off guard. She'd been sitting on a bench just outside of a shop, and was now looking up at a beautiful kunoichi.

"Temari-san?" she murmured. Behind her stood Shikamaru, hands in his pockets with a bouquet of pale blue flowers tucked into his side between his arm and body, both smiling at her.

"You like Naruto Uzumaki, don't you?" Temari asked. "Talk to him. He's a lot easier to speak to than you think."

"B-but… I—" Hinata began in her soft voice, twiddling her fingers.

"I know how unnerving it must be," Temari reassured, coming forward and placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "But it's okay. The worst he could do is be rude to you, and you know he wouldn't do that." Hinata blushed and nodded, smiling. Temari squeezed her shoulder and then carried on walking, Shikamaru ambling behind her, nodding to Hinata slightly as he went. "He's at the ramen shop," Temari called.

She'd had many chances to speak to Naruto Uzumaki, many chances that she ruined with her timid personality. But no more. She'd seen the side of Naruto many had failed to see long before her, the side that was so heavily praised now. If she waited any longer, she'd fall deeper in love with him, and he'd remain none-the-wiser. She'd take a chance today; she'd speak to Naruto, if only for a little while, and build her way up to her confession. She just needed a little push. Subaku no Temari had been that push. She gave a nod, a silent thank you to the lovely blonde, and hurried off to find Naruto.

Shikamaru glanced back to watch Hinata Hyuga run off toward the ramen shop and gave a sigh, pleased with the prospect of a shy friend of his gaining the happiness she so deserved, and then moved his gaze back to Temari, trying to figure out what it was her motives were.

_She's being helpful._

0…o~*~o…0

"They really brighten up the room, don't you think?" she asked, fixing those lovely flowers in a simple vase he'd bought for her on their way back to her apartment. He silently watched her, leaving her question unanswered. All day today, she'd gone around to every one of the Genin, thanking them for something or helping them in some way, and, though he was grateful and proud she had, he still wondered why. There really wasn't a need for her to do it. No one had asked it of her. Yet she had and she seemed to mean it. Nothing about her gave him any indication of malice or sarcasm. She really seemed at peace right then, really seemed happy and relaxed. But that all just brought him back to his original questions.

What were her nightmares about? What could he do to help her? And what in the _hell _had she meant last night?

He stood, deciding the only way to get answers from her is to be direct, and approached her silently. She was cutting the ends off to allow them to drink fully and putting them in the vase one by one when he finally stopped behind her. He needed answers. The fact that she'd done all that today in itself was a sort of evasion of his questions. Not once had they been alone all day.

She felt his breath on the back of her neck and froze; mind, body, heart, and breath. Unthinking as he wrapped one arm around her stomach, gently pulling her back against him. His earthy scent calmed her, but sent her heart racing. It was a strange sensation. Her body was fully relaxed, but her heart was erratic, making her feel light and heavy at the same time. Her head fell back against him, breath shallow as she felt his lips brush against her ear. "Temari…san," he breathed, making her shudder.

He was pulling that card again, she noticed. Like last time, when she'd been yelling at her brothers for stalking her all the way to Konoha. He'd been unnaturally polite to her, endearing her enough to listen to him, and he was _fucking _doing it again. _Son of a bitch, _she thought, but didn't have it in her to remain angry, because he placed a kiss against her cheek, making her blush and eyes close as he brushed his lips across her skin back and forth lightly. His earring tickled her, the cold silver a contrast to his warm breath. His other arm wrapped around her as well, under her breasts respectively, and his body heat enticed a sigh from her.

And she scowled at the wall as she came to a horribly brilliant realization. As his lips pressed faintly to her ear and then her hair, innocent kisses that didn't mean more than just blatant affection, she came to the conclusion that there was no one in the world she wanted to be with more than Shikamaru Nara. There was no one else who could make her feel as wanted and loved as he did. No one who could piss her off and make her laugh like him. No other man would treat her the way he did, as courteous and lazy as he was. And that made her both happy and sad. Happy because she had him now. And sad because of the thought that one day, perhaps not soon, she wouldn't anymore.

"Shikamaru…" she began, turning in his arms to face him. He rested his forehead against hers, waiting for her to continue. "I…have a request to ask of you."

"What is it?"

_Anything to make her smile._

0…o~*~o…0

**A.N.****: Temari is acting weird, huh? Why, oh **_**why, **_**could that be? Actually, it's quite simple. It's love. I also wanted her to have some new friendships formed with the other shinobi. I always knew there was underlying kindness to her that just needed to be weeded out. This was her showing her gratitude to those who helped her and her younger brother. And I wanted to add a bit of frustration for Shikamaru because I find him to be completely laid back all the time and it drives me crazy. It shouldn't, though, because I'm the same way. **

**I chose this song, I think, for its sweetness. Again, I'll try to get the next chapter out soon. I keep leaving you guys with cliffhangers. Honestly.**

**Song: Saltwater Room**

**Artist: Owl City**

**Please review!**


	7. Llego Tu Amor

**A.N.****: Woo! Finally! Got it out! This chapter is bound to be my favorite, merely for its sweetness. The, uh, ahem, "lemon" isn't as explicit as I had thought it would be. It didn't seem right to me at the moment. This chapter is devoted simply for you guys to see the pure side of them, the beauty of their love. **

**Warning****: Mature content. But not explicit.**

**Disclaimer****: I do not own **_**Naruto.**_

**Llego Tu Amor**

Shikamaru Nara wasn't a complicated boy.

At twelve years old, he was deemed more intelligent than most adults, with an IQ surpassing just about anyone else in his village. Maybe, even, the country. He came from a family retaining a very peculiar "Hiden" Technique; Shadow Techniques he intended to fully master one day. He enjoyed lounging about all day, most preferably indulging in cloud watching, or even playing a few tactical board games. He liked the simpler things in life and asked for nothing more than just that. Every year on his birthday, he either told his family he didn't want anything, or asked for something all of his friends could benefit from; a ball or a bat or something along those lines. He wasn't particularly selfish or generous, he wasn't completely kind or mean, he wasn't exactly polite or rude; he just was what he was and he couldn't care less what people thought of him. Of course, he had his faults. He knew that better than anyone. But when he looked in the mirror every morning as he brushed his teeth, he figured he liked the way he looked, considering many factors. Being as lazy as he was, he still remained slender and somewhat toned. And, if he could admit, he didn't think he looked half bad.

He'd always had a certain air of wariness around women. Maybe it was his mother's influence, but he was always watching a girl near him for any signs of a horrible temper, and he tended to avoid _those _girls. There were times, however, that he couldn't avoid it. Namely with his teammate or a close friend. He wasn't what you would call sexist, not really. He was more of a gentleman than anything. He held open doors for women, pulled out a chair for his mother when she was tired from cleaning all day, carried the heavier things for his teammate so she wouldn't have to struggle, always listened to what a girl had to say despite how annoying they or the subject may be to him, and always made sure to think of ways to make things easier on whatever mission he was put with any number of girls in his squad. He was courteous and thoughtful even, but tended to hide it behind a laid back and careless demeanor that put girls off. Yet, if a girl asked him a favor, he would do whatever he could to give her what she wanted, even while acting annoyed.

It was just the way he was.

So when a crying girl begged him of something he'd been doing his damnedest to avoid, he couldn't say no. Not for his own benefit, but for hers. He found he had a certain weakness, a soft spot for _this_ girl, and he could not deny her _anything_. He'd do anything to make her happy, to make her laugh, to make her smile… Anything to keep her from crying. Anything to keep her from looking so sad. Anything to keep her from feeling _any _sort of pain. He'd even fall to his knees for her, _just _for her, to show her how much he seemed to worship her.

He did not grumble and did not act annoyed. He did not complain and did not scowl. He merely nodded and welcomed her into his arms.

If there was anything he was sure of, it was that she had changed his life. His days were filled with warmth and sunshine, cheesy as that sounded. His heart felt fluttery and his stomach felt ticklish. He felt like he was flying. All the time when he was around her. Up in the clouds like he'd always wanted, his only anchor being her smile, in whatever form it came. Even if it was at his expense, he didn't care. As long as he got to see it. He wanted to laugh all the time, hold her close and never let go.

Which made him ask himself: Was this love?

And, _yes, _of course it was. Why wouldn't it be? Everything was perfect with her around, everything seemed so wonderful and bright and painted in gold, drenched in sunshine. Everything was as it should've always been when she was around him. There was no way it _couldn't _be love.

And if that sounded corny, he didn't care. Nothing mattered but the girl with the wheat blonde hair, wide teal eyes, and the wild grin.

He didn't think it was love that made her look so beautiful. He liked to think she'd always looked so perfect, and he just hadn't noticed. Before he'd…well, fallen in love, he'd, _vaguely, _noted she was pretty, until he saw how incredibly violent she was. And then that thought had burned away along with his calm, leaving behind only a mild fear, fear that spiked the moment he was faced in a match against her… But that was then. This was _now._

And she'd never looked lovelier.

Teal eyes were narrowed at him, face caught between embarrassment, anger, and excitement. She was blushing scarlet—though he was sure he was, too—and seemed torn between shoving him away and pulling him in closer. It didn't matter. He made no move closer. This was for _her, _and he decided to not push her. He let her set the mood and the pace and did exactly as she said. And that seemed to both please and frustrate her. And that pleased _him, _because now he knew he wasn't the _only_ one feeling that way.

At the moment, he wasn't sure whether he appreciated the silence in his mind or not. For one, he had to act on instinct, but she seemed to like that best. And, he also couldn't process what was going on. He just did what his body told him to do, and, of course, what _she _told him to do. He found it was easy taking orders from her, almost like breathing, and didn't mind one bit when she took his hand and showed him how to touch her _just _the way she liked it. The one thing he did appreciate right then, other than she herself, was the fact that his mind seemed to take mental pictures of it all, filing away whatever she taught him for later use.

And that was _if _there was going to be a second time they did this. _This _being as intimate and new to him as the noises she made.

Sweet noises. Noises that made him shiver along with her. And then, if he looked past it, he could let himself _feel. _Soft flesh and hot sweat, her sighs filling the otherwise silent room as his fingers lightly traced patterns across her body. Sometimes, he made shapes and wrote things. Like his name above her left breast, covered by a black, simple bra. Or a heart on her thigh. He held still when she sat up, her hands pawing his chest gently before letting them slip under his shirt. Her small hands against his skin made him react strangely, his muscles, hinted at subtly beneath his tanned skin, clenched and a heat spread across him. He lifted his arms for her to pull it off him and sat back as she pressed her lips over his erratic heartbeat.

If he nibbled her right ear, on the shell of it, she'd give a little breathless laugh. If he trailed his hands down between her thighs, she'd spread her legs a little more, a pleading look on her face. He wasn't fully sure what those eyes were asking him to do, but he wanted to learn. He was to know _everything _about Subaku no Temari, no matter how trivial. Especially if it made her feel good.

He wasn't ignorant enough to not know what the basics of sex were, but he was still inexperienced. Just because he knew about it didn't mean he _knew _about it. Confusing thought, yes, but it made sense to him. He was both elated Temari would be his first—not to mention, he _her _first—and sorry that he couldn't have been more practiced at this. He wished he could've been, so that he could be a great lover to her, so that he would have more control… But that didn't matter at the moment.

All that mattered was that Temari wanted _him, _and that she didn't _care _what flaws he had. She liked him how he was. And that was more than he could've asked of her.

He didn't understand why men were so confused by them. It came off pretty easily to him. He just needed to reach behind her—at her request, of course—and unhook it from a simple hook and loop, _plastic _mechanism that held it together, and then simply slip it off her and _there. _It was gone. What was so difficult about that?

Though he couldn't seem to find any words to react to her when he _did _get it off.

She was a lot more curvaceous than the other kunoichi, both because of her age and because of some sort of gene she had. Whatever the case was, she was stunning. But, the more he stared, the more she seemed to shy away. "You're beautiful," he finally said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. The sensation of having those breasts against him was intoxicating. They were soft and warm and it was perfect.

All courage left him when she took his hands and pressed them over her breasts. Something about their weight in his hands, the way they easily filled them, mesmerized him. This was experimental, he realized that right then. They were both new to this in different ways. She'd never had a man touch her before. And he'd never touched a woman. And now that it was happening, it was all too surreal.

He kept his hands there and met her gaze. Those eyes looked worried, nervous, and, above all, _adoring, _and that prompted him to close the space between their lips. Again, he was amazed by how _real _she felt. He always heard about how _flawless _women were, how wonderful and amazing. But, to Shikamaru, it was her imperfections that aroused him more. Sure, her beauty was part of it, as was her personality, her unusually timid reactions to his touches, but, most of all, it was the little things that made her unique and absolutely so like _Temari _that got to him.

Carefully, still kissing her, he gently massaged the mounds in his hands; her muffled whimper told him he was doing it right. He gently pinched the coral tips, trailing his mouth down her skin to take one into his mouth. She writhed and gave a moan, arching up as if an offering to him.

What a beautiful gift.

She tasted of peaches. Sweet and strangely fitting. He really couldn't say he enjoyed pleasuring her orally, but he did, in fact, enjoy making her reach fulfillment, so any discomfort was made up for and solved. She truly was quite a sight. Little toes curling, head thrown back, hands tearing at the sheets, back arching, and a lovely cry of his name. He didn't care how broken it sounded. He loved anything she said. As long as it was his name, he'd lick and taste and lap up her juices happily and without complaint.

Those teal eyes were dark, cloudy, and hungry for him. He wrapped her up in his arms, whispering a kiss on her forehead as his fingers trailed back down to those wheat blonde curls. "You tease me," she sighed, hips jerking when he brushed lightly over a little button.

"You like it."

"I do."

He gently cupped her breast, placing another kiss on her ear. "I wanted to wait."

"I know," she murmured, twisting in his arms to face him. "I did, too."

"What brought this on?"

She pecked his chin, her hand caressing his face lightly. "I'm not entirely sure."

"Hormones?"

"Doesn't feel like it."

And it didn't. There was a level of relief between them, a sort of electricity beneath the surface, and a comfort that shouldn't have been there. Like they'd done this before. It felt natural, like it was meant to be.

"No," he agreed.

She searched along his jaw with her lips and he met her in a kiss, slow and languid, the way she liked to do it. "I'm ready," she whispered when he moved to her neck, his fingers drenched.

"I know."

Their eyes were locked on each other as he slowly entered. They both winced for different reasons. Her pain and his pleasure. He held himself still, gently massaging her hips, trembling a little. "Are you alright?"

"I can handle a little pain," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I just…like it." And he could understand her. He'd never thought someone could be this close to another person. He didn't know where she began and he ended, flush against each other. She was warmth and sunshine and all things beautiful and golden and he _loved _her. Nothing had ever felt so right. And he could see in her eyes that she felt the same.

It was that languid, lazy, slow rhythm she preferred, melding slowly in the darkness. Music was the sighs and gasps and moans, breaking the silence as their bodies danced a careful dance.

Their relationship had never been about the physical aspects. Even now.

The pleasure they felt as they moved together under the sheets wasn't all that it was. It was more the emotions. His happiness that he could please her, her relief that he could want her; his awe at her tenderness, her joy at his affections… He worshipped her battle-scarred body, tended to her every need and did his damnedest to make sure she got her fill out of it before he did. She absorbed all of his considerate treatments, her body shivering at the change. She was so used to being treated roughly, accustomed to the harsh ways of a shinobi, that when he caressed her with a painstakingly gentle manner, she found she succumbed to him easily.

There was no dominant one in the process. It wasn't a game and it wasn't a bet. It was just Shikamaru and Temari. And that's how they wanted it to stay.

During the day, they enjoyed their time in the village, doing multiple activities and spending time together or with friends. But at night was when they were alone, where they do all the things they pleased to one another.

It didn't matter who was on top or who was in charge. The point wasn't to win something. They were quite traditional in the way they made love, and preferred it as such. The fact that they found this part out about their relationship both relieved and saddened them.

One day, they knew, Temari would have to go home.

He stopped moving behind her. "Move your hips on your own," he sighed.

"Ugh, you asshole."

Yeah, sometimes they argued, but that was just the way they were. Two conflicting personalities in two deeply in love people. But the hand massaging her lower back made up for his laziness and her compliance to his command soothed him.

He flipped them, sitting back against the headboard. His legs held hers apart as he reached around to touch. "This is a lot easier."

"You're just being lazy again," she snapped.

He gave a chuckle as she cut off in a moan. "I guess I am." His hand slowly slid down her toned stomach, soft muscles clenching softly with each slow thrust of his hips, while his other hand wrapped around her; his kissed her ear, breathing her in as she gave a soft gasp. "But you like it."

She gave a breathless laugh, not bothering to reply; he already knew the answer. "I want to see your face." He lifted her, sliding out for the brief moment it took her to straddle him, closing his eyes as her warmth wrapped around him again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and took his lower lip in her teeth playfully, her teal eyes glinting when he chuckled.

"I think I like this, too."

"Because you're a lazy bastard?"

"Because I have the perfect view of the perfect woman."

She couldn't hide her pleased smile and pink blush fast enough.

0…o~*~o…0

"This tastes terrible."

"I _told _you I couldn't cook."

Really, it felt like they were a married couple, sitting here at a dinner table, eating a [terrible] home cooked meal, while speaking easily with each other. Her feet were lightly placed over his under the table, and his hand found hers as he ate, making faces. She sighed; she really did want to be a good cook, at least for him. She had wanted to make something special for him but had burnt the food. She had told him they could eat out instead but he _insisted _he wanted to try. A big mistake, if you asked her.

"One week left," he murmured over his water, eyes lowered.

"Yeah…" It broke her heart a little. She sometimes hated the fact that they weren't from the same village, from the same country. They had certain time limits and rules to follow. Though they were together, they were ultimately apart. And that aspect of their relationship troubled her.

"Anything you feel like seeing?" he asked.

"Not really. The whole point of my staying here is to spend time with you."

"I'm only making sure. Because I want to show you something."

"What?"

His silence unnerved her, and, when he smiled, she huffed angrily.

0…o~*~o…0

"It's…beautiful," she breathed.

"Yeah, I knew you'd like it." He stood behind her, hands in his pockets, smiling to himself when she gave a careless, astounded laugh. It took an hour to get here, but, he thought, it was well worth it. He remembered the first time he'd stumbled upon the place, a few short months back while on a mission. He'd thought he'd died and went to heaven, but he'd scoffed at himself; this was a heaven more fit for girls. It hadn't seemed to lose its luster, its glow. The sun, like last time, hit it just right, illuminating it in just about the _best_ way. The grass was unimaginably green, long and untamed, swaying so weightlessly in the breeze, with flowers of different colors, vibrant and brilliant, scattered about. It was as if a master artist had painted a glorious field, a small paradise within a dangerous forest.

"This is… How did you find this?" she asked, arms spreading out before her.

"By chance," he murmured, meeting her gaze slowly. She blushed, a grin brightening her lovely face, green eyes glinting happily. "Go on. I know you want to."

She ran, spinning in the heavenly picture, and he was speechless, breathless when he realized she fit _perfectly. _As if she were _made _for this place, and his heart swelled and he found himself pressing a hand over it, watching her in a state of peace he'd never felt before. "_You're _beautiful," he whispered. She _herself _was radiant and brilliant, stunning in this light in such a way he nearly thought she was an angel. And perhaps she was. She certainly seemed like one.

She turned and faced him, eyes warm and face serene. "Come here," she said. He stepped out of the shadow, making his way over to her carefully, mindful of the flowers, and stopped just before her. She took his hand, interlaced their fingers, and pulled him to her. She brushed her lips over his. "Thank you…Shikamaru." She blinked, eyes glistening, and gave a broken laugh when he kissed away a tear. "You… I…"

"Don't cry…" he mumbled, wrapping her in his arms. "Don't cry anymore."

And maybe it was all he'd done for her, all he could do, all he gave her, and all the fears he'd rid her of, but she felt herself fall deeper in love, just by his embrace, just by that simple request, and she _didn't _want to cry anymore. She felt that, maybe, she never would. "Why is it you?" she whimpered. "Why did it have to be you?"

"I ask myself the same question about you."

She grit her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her face into his shoulder. "It hurts…"

"I know."

And that was where the comfort was. He knew how much it hurt to fall in love, he understood her pain. Her whole life was spent, _training, _to be a ruthless killer, a strong shinobi, a merciless kunoichi, and here she was, in love with a boy that had once been her enemy. The walls she'd built around her heart were cracking and falling down around her, and she stood, _vulnerable, _as this boy slowly melted her, made her soft, made her feel beautiful and perfect and inadequate and childish and wanted all at once. "Damn you," she said. "I love you…"

"I love you, too."

She pulled away, glaring at him. "Make love to me." He smiled gently. Perhaps this was the best way after all, here in the middle of a paradise, both their hearts bare and defenseless and their egos a little wounded. As their bodies met, so did their souls. It was slow, experimental, and gentle, tender in a way he never knew she could be, and passionate in a way she never thought him capable of. He did not smirk and did not taunt her. She did not mock and did not scorn.

Their bodies were one, united in a way they were meant to be.

0…o~*~o…0

**A.N.****: You like it? I feel shallow asking you that. I do hope you like. The song, I'll say now, doesn't really need to be translated to hear the sweetness, the hope, and the sincerity in it. But, if you'd like to understand, go ahead. (Unless you're like me and don't need to.)**

**I half-think I should end it here, but that would just be plain selfish to you, wouldn't it?**

**Song: Llego tu amor**

**Artist: Reik**

**Please review!**


	8. Porcelain Doll

**A.N.****: This has taken ****_so _long to get back to. And I don't promise it'll be updated any quicker. This chapter is actually pretty short, and do forgive me, but that's about as much as I can give you. For now. I'll try to do this quicker, but my inspiration for this is _sapped. _Don't even know why. Then again, updates hadn't been that fast to begin with, so I don't know about now.**

**I don't think the song entirely fits the mood of it; I couldn't quite find the connection. Oh, well. I hope you enjoy this and don't hate me.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Naruto._**

**Porcelain Doll**

When she was six years old, she had gotten her first doll.

Of course, she'd had plenty of toys to play with as a child, and could take her picking at her own will, but this was different. This was a doll that had been given to her personally by her own father. And that was special. That was rare. The dozens of other dolls she had, given to her by maids that smiled plastic smiles and smelled of freshly ironed cloth, gathered in the corner of her room and were left there to pile with dust. This doll, she carried with her everywhere.

The skin was porcelain, flawless, smooth, and the eyes were shiny and blue, with soft black lashes that were long and prettily curled. The eyebrows were black and sleek, sharp and fine, and were raised as if in surprise. The hair was long and black, perfect curled locks, with a lavender silken bow holding the tresses up. The dress was a matching pale purple, all lace and ribbons and ruffles. Sometimes, she'd just sit there and admire that dress, sometimes wonder how it would feel like to wear it, how it would _look _like, with her pallid skin and wheat blonde hair, let her fingers hesitantly caress the fabric. Other times, she'd lightly pull a curl between her index finger and thumb, letting it fall into her palm to examine up close, wondering how she would look with black hair.

It was a short phase, at most a few months of her wistful thinking, endlessly pondering the doll in her arms, blinking her wide teal eyes, imagining things she was sure would never happen. And then she was seven and being enrolled into the Academy, and a whole new life began. There was no room for toys and playing games. No more room for innocence and wonder. No room for her to grow into a feminine and demure young lady that curls her hair and bats her lashes and dresses in pretty outfits and giggles behind her hands.

She would be a kunoichi, not a girl. There was a difference.

That doll, although ignored like all the rest, was kept aside on a shelf she barely noticed anymore, waiting there patiently with a modest expression. There was once when she was thirteen that she stretched while she undressed and let her aching muscles relax from her busy day, and her nails caught the end of white lace, and she paused for a moment to look at the doll. It was smaller in her hands now, and so very fragile, so very breakable. The dress was sheeted in fine particles of dust, the silk not as smooth as she remembered. The porcelain wasn't cracked, but it had lost its luster. The blush upon its face, she saw now was a simple faint painting of rosy pink beneath eyes that were too big. And those eyes were just as blue, but glassy, glazed, unreal, inhuman, the eyebrows flat, thin, and raised, instead, in contempt, and she felt her fingers tremble as she realized that she was no longer the same girl she had once been.

Her mind had been changed.

She stuffed all of the dolls within a box, but made sure to wrap that last one in her old blanket, and lay it down carefully before sealing it shut and hiding it away in her closet. Locking it away with her past.

And that was the end of her.

Time spent in the sunlight had tanned her skin from pallid white to a warm golden shade. Time spent being trained vigorously to be a ruthless shinobi had hardened her features and made her gaze cold and detached. Her hands were roughened, her muscles toned, and her body became accustomed to the violent ways of her new life. And even though her body began to form curves that hadn't been there before, curves that had not been caused by her missions, she was no more a lady than she ever began with.

Sometimes, she'd have a moment of gentle feminine tastes, bringing a flower up to smell or admiring herself in the mirror in the morning, pleased with how she'd grown. But those moments would pass quickly and she'd frown and toss the flower away or scowl at her reflection and leave her room.

She was a kunoichi. Not a girl. And she'd remind herself vehemently.

0...o~*~o...0

The day she met Shikamaru, she was not amused.

He was taller than his fellow teammates, with a laid back attitude that unnerved her. His eyes were narrow and brown and showed no interest in the world around him, his hair jet black and knotted up in a strange pointed style. He spoke in a bored tone, and if he smiled, seldom as that seemed to be, it was lazy, slow, almost unwilling. As if it took all of his energy to muster the slight twitch of his lips, too much time to contract his zygomaticus muscles, and it made her teeth grit for some reason she could never explain. He was unassuming, uninteresting, and completely out of place. He looked like he belonged in a hammock, lying in the shade and wasting his life away with not a worry in the world. Not at all the type to fight and protect and kill for a living. There was a brief curiosity that she felt as she watched him speak to his teammates, a faint rumble of his voice, not quite deep yet; why had he become a shinobi then?

He was smart, though, and that was all that mattered. In a mission, he would surely come in handy, if not for the strategy, then for a skillful kill. He could perhaps become a medic and come up with a way to save multiple comrades at once, or work hard and become a Kage and win every battle waged against his village, outsmart his enemies. Or maybe even join ANBU and protect his village in silence. But this boy didn't seem to even want to be a regular shinobi, let alone any of those other things. The gift he had was wasted on him.

And it frustrated her. If she had had that intelligence, she wouldn't _dare_ keep it a secret. She would put it to good use and change the lives of her village.

But on the day she was faced in a match against him, she realized just how dangerous he really was. There was no look of malice in his eyes, not even the slightest intention to kill, and every move he made was practiced, planned. She could not win against him, no matter how strong she'll get, because he'll only get smarter. And he could see right through her. It was as if she was his puppet, and he could control her with the same ease her little brothers could with their weapons of wood and sand. It was a scary feeling, to know that every one of your movements were already predicted. Not a single one of her attacks were a surprise to him.

Perhaps that was when she began to respect him.

0...o~*~o...0

"What are you doing up here?"

It had come to her over night, lying in an ocean of pale sheets and wrinkled blankets, in a dream that vanished when her teal eyes had opened wide to the darkness all around her. The fear of pain, slithering beneath the surface, as she took a deep breath, trying to calm her hammering heartbeat. She hadn't woken in a cold sweat, nightmares fresh on her mind and panic spinning through her bloodstream. She had been pulled out of her sleep slowly, yet quickly. As if in a hurry, and yet prolonged, so that when she mustered up the strength to sit up, her head hadn't hurt and her body hadn't trembled. She just felt scared and confused, like anyone who had spent their entire life running away from their thoughts.

There, as her gaze had followed the ghostly reach of the moonlight beside her, was the cure to her worries. But the very cause of it. He always slept soundly, breathing deeply, evenly, peaceful in his mind. She wondered what it was he dreamt of. Perhaps about clouds, floating through the bright blue sky idly. Or perhaps about strategies, forever thinking up new fighting tactics, cursed with that intelligence she'd always admired. Or perhaps, even, about _her_, her face or voice or whatever it was he liked so much about her. It was a nice thought, comforting even. But it only fed her troubles.

Without thinking, she'd slipped out of bed, overcome by the pain, her fears, and was out the door in another beat. She stood there in the darkness of the living room, _temporary_ like her stay. Temporary like life. Like love. And slid open the nearest window, letting in cool nighttime air and closing her eyes against the breeze, mind clearing. A few more days, and she'd be back home, back to her duties and away from him. She couldn't say whether that was a relief or not. What happened to the hope she had felt?

She opened her eyes, dark green now, shadowed, and filled with a sorrow she'll never voice, and realized that it was nowhere to be found.

Another sigh escaped her.

"Thinking," she replied in a murmur he hardly heard over the wind.

She only wore a flimsy pair of shorts that looked almost white in the moonlight, but he knew they were pink. Her t-shirt fit her too small, hugged her too tight in some places, faded from a stark black to a smoky gray. Her wheat blonde hair was undone, fluttering in the breeze, and she hugged her knees and rested her chin on her arm, pine green eyes faraway, thoughtful and filled with a strange remorse. He walked along carefully on the shingles, sitting down next to her slowly. Out before them were crowded trees, glimpses of a few houses settled between them, and behind them the entire village slept. He glanced at her, wondering what it was she was thinking about, but didn't ask her.

He knew enough about her to know when she needed her space. What went through her mind would forever be a mystery, her own business he would never invade, but he was still curious. What was it she was thinking about so deeply? What was it that had bothered her so much to make her leave the bed without a single warning?

He leaned back on his hands. He'd woken in alarm, finding an empty spot beside him, and then flapping curtains where a window had been left open. It hadn't taken him more than a second to climb out and pull himself onto the roof, already knowing he'd find her there. She'd never done this before, but something told him that it wasn't the first time; perhaps not here in his village, but in hers. He watched the sky a moment, the faint twinkle of stars, and then looked at her. "Temari..."

"Don't," she mumbled, and he went silent.

She looked soft, delicate, _breakable_, and it almost scared him. He wanted to _know_, but there was a part of him that already did. He just didn't want to accept it. Hadn't they been past this already?

"Please don't..." he began, but stopped himself before he could make it worse. He looked away, brows pulling together as he realized with a pang that there was nothing he could do.

_Please don't cry. _

0...o~*~o...0

She wrapped herself up in the blankets, trying to lose herself in the sea of sheets, but he was there beside her, every bit as real as she was, the reminder that there was nowhere to hide. His eyes didn't judge her, but that scared her most. It was the fact that he didn't care about the bad side about her that frightened her so. She felt vulnerable, helpless, and she found herself shrinking away from him. Up until now, she's always been strong, always independent, always confident. But it had all been stripped away, she was left bare, and the worst part was that he didn't seem to care. He didn't _care _how awful she was on the inside, or the horrible things she'd done in her past, or even the way she sometimes treated him. He accepted her, and that tore at her, broke down her defenses and crumbled her walls down.

She curled her hand into the sheets, willing the tears not to spill from her eyes. But he saw them, rolling down the bridge of her nose and across her cheek, eyes squeezed shut and lashes wet. He sometimes figured the things that went through her mind were better left to her, that her thoughts were her own to keep. This time, he was dying to know what she was thinking. What had he learned from their time together, though? Weren't they in tune?

He knew what was bothering her before he even reached his hand out, he knew why she looked so scared before patting down the tangled wisps of her wheat blonde hair, and he understood her. Yet for one moment, they were completely out of sync.

"Temari..." he murmured, pulling some of her golden strands between his fingers.

"Please," she choked out, clutching his forearm tightly. "_Please _don't..."

But what was she pleading for? What could he say that was so scary to her?

He watched her, wrapped up in her demons and whimpering softly. He had hoped that he'd taken her fears away, only they both knew that could never happen. They were as much a part of her as her temper. He slipped his other arm under her, pulling her into his chest, pausing when she resisted feebly. She relented and buried her face in his shoulder, letting her tears soak into his skin.

"I... I had a doll once," she whispered.

He blinked at the wall just past her, his hand still tangled in her hair and his thumb stroking her temple. He didn't say a word, waiting silently until she spoke again, words faint and unsure.

"My dad gave it to me..." Her head hurt, throbbing deeply and making her eyes squeeze shut, but she'd be damned if she didn't tell him the story first.

The fact that she called the doll "it" struck him. He'd known girls who treated those dolls like their babies, or even their best friends. Girls who would name them and nurture them. But Temari must've been the kind that just kept them around for the sake of keeping them. She was, after all, pampered as a child.

"I always wanted to be as pretty as that doll..." She wasn't fishing for compliments, he knew that. She was never so shallow. She knew what she looked like and she accepted it. "It had black hair, though, and blue eyes."

"..." He pushed a strand behind her ear. He'd expected her ears to be pierced, _something _that implied she was as much of a troublesome, dangerous woman as she truly was, but they weren't. They were smooth and small and soft under his fingertips. "Don't ever change," he found himself saying.

Her breath caught, and the fear washed over her once more.

_Why, _she thought. _Why don't you hate me? _She had been taught to be merciless, a hardcore killer with no regrets and inhibitions. She was violent, cruel, and had killed more than her fair share of people in her short life. Shouldn't he be _afraid _of her? Shouldn't he _despise _her for all the misery she'd brought upon his home?

She had never been this open to someone, had never let anyone so near. And all the flaws that she had weren't enough to drive him away. He was far too good for her, and entirely not enough. He was lazy, yes, and unmotivated. And he was her enemy. But he was also a gentlemen, kind, a genius. He could give his village more than she could ever give her own. He was more useful than her. She couldn't think of anything that he's ever done that could send him straight to hell.

He could do so much better.

And yet he was holding her, caressing her so tenderly, letting her drop all of her nightmares upon him, and he accepted her. And he was telling her _not to change_? But look at all the horrible things she's done, and all the people she's killed and harmed. Her hands were covered in blood, and he didn't _care_? She was staining him, but he didn't flinch.

And she was crying, deep, resounding sobs, into his chest, wondering how she would ever get out of it. But then she didn't want to. That smile on his face made her breath hitch and the kiss he placed on her forehead made her heart flutter. She didn't want that feeling to go away. She didn't want to lose it now.

She'd have to leave eventually, and what would she do without him?

"Shikamaru..." she began, and he only shook his head.

God knew what his own fears were.

0...o~*~o...0

**A.N.****: Very short, yes. **

**I guess this is exploring their fears of losing each other. As you can probably guess, this won't be easy for either of them.**

**Well, I really don't have much to say. I have two other stories that I'm still writing—same couple—and I'm starting two new stories soon, which I'm working on now, and then there's school... I'm damn busy. I'll try, I can promise you that, to keep writing more about them, but I can't say how soon the next chapter will be up. Just, hope for the best. **

**Song: Porcelain Doll**

**Artist: Megan McCauley**

**Please review and tell me your thoughts!**


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